Princess of Sin
by Rose-Riddle3223
Summary: CROSSOVER with HP. Buffy is accused of Kendra's death and is sent to Hogwarts. Buffy meets some interesting people, and old enemies return.
1. Justice and Truth

Timeline: season 2 Buffy, (she is 17), book 7 Harry Potter (they are all 17 as well).

***Scenario:*** After Dru kills Kendra, not just the police thinks it was Buffy. The Scoobies and the Council do as well. She is carted off to Hogwarts.

BEGIN HERE*******

The day was fast becoming cold. Buffy Summers sat in the back of the truck, her knees uncomfortably cramped. She was leaning back against the wall, her neck sore from being held in the same position for so long. Her wrists were becoming raw from being chained to each other by the handcuffs. The harsh metal grated against her skin and she winced as she tried fruitlessly to move. 

Not that moving would have done her any good. Weatherby and Smith, two Watchers from the retrieval squad, had given her a large dose of some tranquilliser; her strength was totally zapped. Rendered helpless, she watched numbly as the men had arrested her on behalf of the Council.

Buffy remembered how it happened, those few short days ago. She had run into the library of Sunnydale High, to see the books of occult that had helped her so many times. To see the long, wooden tables which she had sat at and talked with her friends for hours on end; joking and laughing, making fun of Giles and all his British-ness, sharing jelly doughnuts, talking to Willow about boys. About Xander. About Angel…Angelus. 

Among all those fond memories, she had found the body. Kendra's body. Her sister-slayer was lying motionless on the ground, her throat cut. Angelus had taunted her, and she had run as fast as she could. He had laughed, and she was too late. Drusilla had come and gone, leaving a corpse behind. Buffy raced to the Jamaican girl's side, but she already knew it was far too late.

After that, everything was a blur. She faintly remembered the police coming. Somehow, she evaded them, and gone after Angelus. She killed him, after a long battle. She came back to the library before she left for LA – her mother, Joyce, had kicked her out. When she walked into the library, everything was different. There were Watchers there. Weatherby and Smith. They had taken her by force, and subdued her with a tranquiliser. She saw the faces on her friends, on Giles. 

"On behalf of the Watcher's Council, you are hereby placed under arrest." The harsh voice of Weatherby. He pulled out the needle and stuck it in the crook of her arm. She screamed, and tears stung her eyes. She kicked out at him, and he backhanded her in the face. She tried to punch him, but her hand wouldn't move. It was held behind her. Smith handcuffed her hands together behind her back. She tried to respond, but the effect of the drug was instantaneous. Suddenly drained, she tried desperately to explain herself.

"No! It wasn't me…Drus….I…Angel..us…killed…" She felt so tired, she couldn't finish what she wanted to say. Everything was turning dark, but she could still see Giles' face faintly. 

"I…I'm s-s-sorry, Buffy. I wish there was more I could do. You'll be taken to England, and rehabilitated."

He sounded genuine, but there was an edge to his voice that said he didn't trust her. That he still thought that she was under Angel's spell. Like when Jenny was murdered, he partly blamed her. If Buffy had killed Angel, Jenny would still be alive. Now, Buffy thought desperately, he must still think that it was Buffy who killed Kendra.

Her friends looked scared. She had been acting weirdly lately; Buffy knew that. But didn't they believe her? She wasn't a murderer! 

'No,' a nasty little voice said in the back of her drugged brain, a personification of her friends' thoughts. 'You're a slayer, and that's what you did, wasn't it? You _slayed_!'

"I didn't," she whispered, a tear slowly making its way down her cheek. "Not her, not Kendra. No one believes me. No one trusts me."

She sniffed angrily, tasted the salty tear as it fell on her lips. A sharp poke in the shoulder reminded her that she was sitting across from Smith. He frowned, and brandished the crossbow that he had been pointing at her for the last…God knows how many hours. She had lost track of time after the drug had knocked her out. 

"Quiet, murderer," he hissed. "You're right, though. We don't trust you at all."

She closed her eyes and willed the tears not to come. Three hours later, she was jerked awake as the truck she was sleeping in had screeched to a halt. 

She opened her eyes, bleary from lack of sleep and tears, to see that Smith had stood. He roughly yanked her to her feet, and fumbled with the door. He opened the sliding door open and stepped out, pulling her with him. She gasped, and looked up. She was in front of a large castle! 

Buffy was very familiar with fantasy and the occult – it was her calling in life. But never had she seen something like this before. The castle screamed magic, she could feel it from this distance. Her Spidey-sense was tingling, and she became afraid.

Weatherby pulled her up a small path and pushed her into a carriage. She looked forward, and saw that a strange looking black horse that had wings led the carriage. 

She fell back numbly and watched as they approached the castle. A very, very old man with a long white beard and a pointy hat was waiting for her at the entrance. She clenched her jaw, and walked out of the carriage to meet him; the two watchers behind her still toting their weapons.

The old man nodded gravely and spoke.

"Thank you. I shall take her from here." Weatherby and Smith nodded, Smith with a predatory grin, and turned, walking back to the carriage. The old man held out a hand gesturing to the castle.

"Inside, please." He said this without any emotion in his voice. Buffy felt her insides turn icy. What were they going to do with her? This didn't look like any Council facility.

She walked indoors and was instantly warmed by the fire in the corner. But this was physical warmth, and had nothing to do with the chilly feeling she felt inside. The old man was leading her somewhere, and she hastened to follow. He led her up and down staircases, through rooms, through halls, down winding passageways until Buffy was very lost. She was feeling more helpless by the second. Finally, he led her up to where a giant statue of a gargoyle was. She watched curiously as he said something to the statue, which sprang to life. Buffy gave a small shriek of surprise. A demon! She felt around for a stake in her back pocket, but realised too late that she was quite unarmed. The old man had swung around swiftly and was looking at her with piercing eyes, as if analysing her reaction. After a second though, he spoke again.

"Do not be afraid. Our world here is very different from what you're used too, Miss Summers. Come in," he said, a bit more firmly, and indicated that she should enter the room. She walked in, and was immediately accosted by some very odd things in there; like moving portraits, weird science-y instruments that Willow would have loved – Buffy stopped at that thought. _Willow._

Presently, the old man had sat down opposite a dark mahogany desk and indicated that she should sit down in the chair on the other side of the desk. She complied, not really caring what happened now. They all thought she killed Kendra. What else could happen?

The man cleared his throat and stared at her again with those startling pale blue eyes. He put the tips of his long fingers together on the deesk and leaned forward to survey her.

"Miss Summers. I suppose you need to be filled in. My name is Professor Albus Dumbledore. You are at my school – Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Buffy started. Witchcraft? She looked at him dully, waiting for the man – _Dumbledore – _to continue.

"I know why you are here. The Council found out about what happened, and were going to take you to a correctional facility or jail. Your Watcher, however, is an old friend of mine and he asked if you could be taken in here."

Buffy swallowed. "So, what am I going to do here? I can't slay…" she said, trailing off.

"You will join here as a student. You will be placed as a senior in seventh year. Since you are a slayer, you have natural magic abilities, so you will be able to use a wand and function as any other witch. However, you will continue to be under the tranquilliser, Miss Summers. I cannot have you endangering any of my students."

She stiffened when she heard that she would be under that stupid tranquilliser. She hated it so much, it made her blood run cold.

"Now, Miss Summers; if you please, put this on." He handed her an old, battered hat. She took it with a bewildered look on her face, but donned the hat obediently.

She looked up at his hard face. Just then, she heard a high voice in her ear.

"Well now, a slayer! I haven't seen one of you since…well, that pretty little brunette girl. But that was a hundred years ago or more…now, let's see…"

Buffy stiffened, and listened more intently. "Plenty of courage, I can see that. A quirky sense of humour, dedication…all Gryffindor qualities. But wait, what's this? Hmm…ooh, some healthy anger here. Decisiveness, determination, cunning, quick-wittedness…unbelievable tenacity. You really persevere, don't you?" the hat laughed in her ear.

"SLYTHERIN!" it yelled out. Buffy jumped, and took the hat off her head before looking at Dumbledore questioningly. He looked perplexed, and regarded her carefully.

"Very well. The last Slayer was a Slytherin, too."

Buffy swallowed nervously. "Um…sir? What's sly..slither…huh?"

He almost smiled, but seemed to catch himself just in time. "We have a house system here. There are four houses: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Your housemates are like your family here at school. Now, I think it's time to take you to your house."

With that, he called out loudly, "You can come in now, Mr Malfoy."

Buffy turned around. A tall figure stood in the doorway. Buffy felt her breath catch in her chest. 

The man had silver-white hair, and pale eyes. He stood very tall, much taller than Buffy. His lips turned up disdainfully, and he had a contemptuous smirk on his face that Buffy recognised.

"Spike…" she whispered to herself, but then looked in his eyes more closely. She blinked. What happened to those heartless, twin blue pools? This man wasn't Spike, he had silver eyes instead of blue. Buffy alsdo had a feeling that Dumbledore wouldn't let a killer into the school. 

__

But then, he did invite me, didn't he? She thought bitterly, but willed herself to stop thinking that way when she felt tears beginning to come once again. 

Dumbledore spoke. "Mr Malfoy here is Head Boy at our school. Please escort Miss Summers back to the Slytherin common room. Her bedroom is behind the picture of the witch in black. Oh, and Miss Summers - " he paused, and Buffy stopped and turned around to face him.

"I am keeping my eye on you. Remember this. The rest is to your own discretion. I will speak with you later."

With that, he dismissed them. Buffy felt her heart sink. She knew what that meant: he didn't trust her. That was obvious. But then, who _did_ trust her now? 

The man she was with, the Spike look-a-like, turned. He looked at her, as if sizing her up. 

"So, you're in Slytherin, are you? well, that's something. I hope you're not a mudblood or anything."

His voice was deep and intoxicating, smooth as anything. His upperclass English accent rolled off his tongue, and Buffy was forcibly reminded of Spike. Although the men had slightly different accents, Malfoy's being more classy, they had exactly the same voice.

She frowned then. "What's a mudblood?" she said in a small voice. Her energy was still drained, and she was feeling faint.

The blonde man made a derisive noise. "Well if you don't know then you must be. A mudblood is someone who's not purely a witch or wizard. Who's got muggle blood, see?" he said scornfully.

She scowled. So they were calling her names now? "For your information, I come from a long line of magical women," she said curtly.

Malfoy looked…not more impressed, but less unimpressed. "Oh. Really," he drawled. _Blonde American feminist,_ he thought derisively. _They're letting the worst types in nowadays._

Buffy was about to give a smart remark when she suddenly felt dizzy, and fell to her knees. The blonde man gave a jerk and grabbed her before she hit the floor. She smiled apologetically.   


"Sorry, I'm just not feeling too well," she said weakly. He offered his arm silently and helped her back to the Slytherin Common room.

Once they got there, he took her across the room and stood her in front of a portrait. Buffy looked at him quizzically, and he gestured to the painting.

"You need to come up with a password," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Buffy thought quickly. 

"Morningstar," she said off-handedly. The man gave a small smirk.

"Like the Swiss Morningstar mace?" he asked. "Never would have thought a little thing like you would know about weaponry."

Buffy looked down. "You have no idea," she said quietly.

He sensed there was something wrong with the tiny blonde girl. He started helping her into her bedroom. "So, how old are you anyway? Fifteen?" he said.

Buffy frowned indignantly. "I'm seventeen. I'm supposed to be a seventh year or something."

The man gave another small smirk, which Buffy now recognised as a smile. She had spent way too much time around Spike. "Right. You'll be in all my classes, then." he said. Turning to the door, he stopped. 

"My name's Draco, by the way. Draco Malfoy."

With that, he left.

A/N

My first Buffy fic. Please review, I feel loved. If you have read my other fic; this is totally different. Feel free to make suggestions. Question: who is in the picture? Who was the other slayer???

You WILL find out. Read, review, reap the benefits of making my muse happy and I will update. …please??? 


	2. Discoveries and Guilt

*&*&*& hey people thanks for all those reviews!!!! I was ecstatic when I saw them all!! Oh I got a couple of reviews making reference to DragonKatGal's story. I have read it, and just so you people know; THIS STORY IS COMPLETELY DIFFERENT. It takes a totally different course, and it's NOT copying, okay? I concede the idea of "buffy goes to Hogwarts because of a murder" is unoriginal, but bare with me, it's a completely new storyline. I needed to get her there under similar circumstances for my story to take place. Don't accuse me please, I'm not a bad person!! *&*&*&  
  
The blonde haired American girl sat alone in her room. No one wanted to talk to her, and no one wanted to trust her. The school term had just started; in fact, the students were juts arriving now. She sighed deeply and drew a brush through her hair, looking at herself in the mirror.  
  
Those eyes were haunted, she thought to herself. Those bags from lack of sleep. But then, how could they even expect her to sleep when they treated her like this? She was plagued by thoughts, and she was consumed with guilt that she should never have had in the first place. Buffy tortured herself with scenarios that could have been. What if I were faster, could I have saved Kendra? What if.What if I had killed Drusilla the first night I saw her with Angel - Angelus.  
  
She shuddered as she thought of the dark haired man. His features were a common guest star in her dreams. Always had been, in fact: although now her dreams were nightmares, and she was always running away from him in these, not running into his open arms. Over and over and over had she killed him; in her dreams. That fantasy realm where things were not as in reality.  
  
In some of her dreams, she was treated like a real person. People who knew about the allegations against her would greet her when they walked past. They wouldn't just ignore her like they had in the last two weeks.  
  
Well, not everyone ignored her. That Professor Dumbledore guy said hi every now and then, but his eyes were sad when he looked at her. The blonde man, what was his name.Malfoy. He said hello once or twice, but he was more content to do other things than be her little friend while no one else was paying her attention.  
  
With another sigh, Buffy slowly got up. The tranquiliser was sure working; moving was a bit of a struggle. She was walking down the corridor up from the dungeons to the Great Hall when she heard something. Buffy was caught offguard, and jumped about a mile when She whipped around to see that a painting had moved. She was still getting used to this. Trying to calm down a little, she took a deep breath and walked closer.  
  
The painting was of a girl, about abut Buffy's age - if not, then a bit older. She had long orange hair covered with a veil and very pale skin. She had a beautiful face; very high cheekbones. She had peculiar eyes: they were a greeny-hazel colour, with the slightest hint of blue. But that's not what made them peculiar. Her eyes seemed to glow: not in a supernatural way, but in a very intense stare. Her pupils seemed to bore into Buffy's, and she found herself almost unable to look away. There was a gleam in her eye, and Buffy strove to come up with a word that best described it.  
  
Hunger. Lust. A predatory gleam. Presently, the girl in the portrait looked at Buffy closely, and laughed. A high, tinkling laugh of a woman who was brought up with class. Her dress was medieval; like she was from the nobility.  
  
It was long, made out of dark purple velvet. It had a plunging neckline and was gathered at the waist. The whole outfit was complimented with silver and black pearls. The girl stared at Buffy intently.  
  
"You're a strange little thing, aren't you?" she cooed in a smooth, sweet voice that would melt butter. She seemed to have a European accent.a bit Irish.  
  
Buffy frowned at her question. "Um, excuse me, but.what do you mean?"  
  
The girl smiled her smile, full of gleaming teeth. "You know what I mean. I know who you are. What you are. You're one of them.one of us."  
  
Buffy went pale and took a step back. That voice was familiar.  
  
"What?.One of.you? Care to explain the brainteaser?"  
  
The girl smiled, but this time there was more mirth in her eyes. "You know what you are. You know what I am. We're one in the same," She whispered, staring at Buffy intensely. In one movement, she stood up regally and swept out of the picture gracefully, with her head in the air.  
  
Buffy swallowed and took a breath. One of what? A murderess? Buffy's eyes widened and she began to take quicker, shallower breaths. No! No. That girl was just a picture. She didn't know things.she didn't know people. There was no way she would have known what happened.  
  
Buffy began to walk up to the Great Hall again, remembering the feast. She felt a cold claw permeate her stomach when she realised what she'd been thinking.  
  
I never killed Kendra! Buffy thought fiercely. People have been saying it so much, I'm beginning to believe it myself.  
  
Lost in a cloud of thought, she drifted towards the Slytherin table. On her way, she started to receive some very strange looks from the people around her, who were unfamiliar with this tiny blonde. She sat down next to the only person she knew - Malfoy.  
  
He barely acknowledged her presence. She lowered her gaze and began to half- listen to Dumbledore as he gave speeches. She dimly recalled him introducing her to the rest of the school; he said she was an "American Exchange Student". She tried not to laugh at that statement. She was anything but a star student. For most of the meal, she was just alone with her thoughts.  
  
Draco Malfoy paid her little notice until she finally cleared her throat and tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me," she said icily. "But why are you ignoring me?"  
  
He stopped and regarded her steadily. "You didn't seem all that sociable," he said calmly. "And.well, you're a bit beneath me. I can't be seen socialising with people like you."  
  
He said this last comment calmly, never losing his composure; as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Buffy gaped. Who did he think he was? WHY was everyone here saying they knew who she was, what she was?  
  
"People like me.how?" she challenged, here mouth set in a grim, defensive line.  
  
He fought the urge to laugh. "Well, American, blonde, feminist, outspoken, and above all - a Mudblood." He looked at her calculatingly.  
  
She instantly relaxed. He doesn't know, she thought. But then, as he was still looking at her, she remembered that he had actually just insulted her.  
  
"Hey!" she cried. "1. I'm not. 2. Don't ever call me that again. 3. I told you before - I come from a long line of powerful magical women."  
  
She told him this stiffly. He just raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "Sure. Whatever," he said dismissively, and turned back to his meal.  
  
She felt a fire rise up in her, but fought the urge to retaliate. She remembered that she was under a powerful tranquilliser, and would not be able to do much anyway.  
  
Malfoy reminded her way too much of Spike. That cockney vampire was just bad news. Where there was Spike, there was Drusilla. And where there was Drusilla, there was Angelus. With these thoughts, Buffy's mood softened. It still hurt to think about what had happened back in Sunnydale.  
  
She was only too relieved when the dishes began to be cleared. She walked back to her room in the dungeons quickly, so as not to have to talk with any of her new 'housemates'. They would only stare at me, she thought bitterly.  
  
As she was walking to the dungeons, she passed the library. She had never really been in there before; and was curious to see if it looked anything like the library back at Sunnydale High.  
  
She walked through the doors quietly, earning a grateful glance from the librarian behind the counter, who looked back down at her book she was filing. Then she stopped. The librarian froze and looked up at Buffy, an inquisitive expression on her face. When she realised who she was looking at, her eyes widened a little, and as soon as Buffy met her gaze once again, she looked down at her book.  
  
Buffy felt eyes on her as she walked through the library. She assumed it was empty apart from her and the librarian, and ignored the vulture-like woman, settling into a quiet corner. She was just about to curl up with a familiar book called 'Vampyr' when she heard someone enter.  
  
"Hi, Ms Pince," said a low voice. "Is Hermione in here yet?" they asked warily.  
  
Buffy tilted her head to one side and thought for a moment. She knew she had heard that name before. Oh, yes. Hermione was the Head Girl. She had been here early, as well was Malfoy. Buffy hadn't actually spoken to the girl. Some thing about 'not socialising with other houses' or something like that, which Buffy had picked up from Malfoy and Snape, the Head of House.  
  
Buffy was brought back to reality when she noticed that someone was coming her way. Or, two someones.  
  
As they rounded the last bookshelf, Buffy sat facing two guys in Gryffindor colours.  
  
"Uh.hi," a tall, freckly one with red hair said. "Who are you?"  
  
Buffy looked up and gazed at the two boys. "I'm Buffy Summers. New student from America," she said.  
  
The red haired boy frowned. "Oh. The new Slytherin." He said, as if it were something dirty.  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Once again, with less enthusiasm," she drawled.  
  
The other boy gave a small smile. "I'm Harry Potter," he said, holding out a hand. Buffy took it only too willingly. Finally, someone was being nice.  
  
The redheaded boy shrugged. "Ron Weasley," he said gruffly, not offering his hand. Buffy sighed, slightly hurt; she didn't say anything.  
  
"So," Ron said. "Have you seen Hermione anywhere?" Buffy shook her head.  
  
Harry pointed. "Here she is," he said. A bushy-haired brunette was walking into the section where they were talking, with an armload of books.  
  
"Harry. Ron," she said, surprised. "You're getting faster and faster at this aren't you?" she giggled.  
  
Buffy frowned. "What, finding you in the library when no other sane person would be?"  
  
Ron nodded. "Except you," he said. "You're the other insane person here."  
  
Buffy coloured. Hermione looked at Buffy and stopped. McGonnagal had told her about this new American girl. A murderess. Killed one of her friends.  
  
Hermione pursed her lips, and spoke formally. "Hello, Buffy. I haven't had a chance to speak with you before now. Pity really. Professor McGonnagal's told me all about you," she said, somewhat coldly.  
  
Harry had been watching the display and blinked. Why was Hermione being so distant to the new girl?  
  
Buffy felt a defensive wall go up. So, this girl was threatening her? "Oh, really. How exciting," she said. "She only told you the good things, right?" she said, knowing perfectly well what Hermione thought of her by now. Hermione would think of her as a murderess. Despite this, Buffy knew that Dumbledore wouldn't have let slip the fact that she was the slayer. She still had a hidden identity  
  
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Of course," she said, lying through her teeth. Then, she turned abruptly and faced Ron and Harry. "I've just been looking for some books on Magical creatures for DADA. I'm just missing one. It's on vampires."  
  
Buffy stood and held out her hand. "Is this it?" she said, holding out the book. Hermione pursed her lips again.  
  
"Yes. Thank you," she said politely, taking the book from her. Buffy looked deeply into the brunette's eyes. I didn't do it, she thought. Why don't they believe me?  
  
Hermione broke the eye contact between them and stalked out of the room. Ron ran to catch up.  
  
Buffy ran a hand through her hair. Harry stood, transfixed by what had happened. "Wow," he said. "You two don't get along. Why's that?"  
  
Buffy stiffened. "Ugh, well.it's the whole Slytherin/Gryffindor thing." She said briefly. "Don't know why. I shouldn't even be in Slytherin from what I hear. My parents aren't a wizard and witch."  
  
Harry's eyes sparkled. "Really? Hat tried to put me in Slytherin. I told it not to."  
  
"Oh. Good idea. I'm not with the whole 'assertive' thing anymore, though," she said.  
  
"Huh. Oh, well. See you round some time," he said pleasantly, before turning and following the path Ron and Hermione took earlier.  
  
Buffy smiled. Finally! A friend. Well, a sort-of friend. Casual acquaintance. Either way, at least someone was being nice.  
  
Buffy was about to leave the library when she tripped over a large, leather- bound book. She bent over to inspect it and saw the title: Hogwarts: a History. She picked it up out of curiosity.  
  
After flipping through the pages, she saw that on the contents poage there was a chapter on paintings. She narrowed her eyes. Maybe this would tell her who that strange girl in the purple dress was.  
  
Hefting the book under her arm, Buffy checked it out at the front desk and walked back to her room. She soon reached her door - portrait. Whatever.  
  
"Morningstar," she said wearily, and the figure in the picture giggled. Buffy looked closer, and caught what the figure said to her.  
  
"You're one of them.one of us," it giggled. This voice was different from the girl in the purple, but Buffy didn't care. It was still a familiar voice,. Buffy strained to see who the person was, but her face was covered by a long cloak.  
  
From what she could see of the figure, the girl in the painting was wearing a dark red silk dress; it was too modern to be medieval. Buffy wasn't good at History, but she put it down to Renaissance/Reformation period. The dress was flowing, and was brought in to a very, very small waist. It had a very puffy skirt; it had to have one of those hoop-y things beneath it.  
  
Buffy scowled. "Whatever," she said forcefully, receiving some very strange looks from some of the Slytherins in the Common Room. She pushed through the door and into her own room.  
  
There, she lay stomach down on her bed, opening her new library book to chapter IX: Portraits.  
  
She turned page after page, learning about all the pictures in the school. She was amazed to discover that there were over 3,000 portraits.  
  
After an hour or two, she finally found one of the girls.the one in the red. She looked at the biography.  
  
" 'Cloaked Girl in Red Dress'. Found in the Slytherin Common Room. Romanticism style. Artist: anonymous. Was a student at Hogwarts for six years, from 1776-1782. Went missing on August 11th, and her body was never found. Records show that on a holiday before returning to school for her seventh year, her family was killed and tortured, and her village was slaughtered. She escaped to a convent, but was convinced that she was evil. She was a witch and a seer, and this was the last time in history that a witch was persecuted. Convinced by others that she was evil, she was slowly driven mad. After this, she disappeared from the convent and was never seen again."  
  
Buffy felt her blood turn to ice. The story was all too familiar. Shaking involuntarily, she turned the page.  
  
" 'Girl in Purple Velvet'. Found in Dungeon passages. Style: unknown. Artist: anonymous. Student at Hogwarts during the Middle Ages. Precise date unknown. Little is known about this girl, except that she left during fifth year to become a strumpet to feed her family. Fell sick with syphilis at the age of 20. While a priest was performing the last rights, a Mr. Joseph Heinrich Nest approached her on her deathbed. The priest was killed. The girl was never seen again."  
  
Buffy froze completely, and took a long, shuddering breath. She did know these girls.  
  
&*&*& See? See? Told you it wasn't the same. Now, if you know your history, the challenge is thus: who are the girls in the pictures??????? If you think you know, drop me a line. I award 20 points to the first person who gets it right!! Please review, tell me how it's going. Review!!! I'll try to update very soon. 


	3. Books and Dreams

&*&*&

Hey people!!! Wow, lotsa reviews. 20 points go to Cailean Maeve for knowing who the girls were. You responded within 2 and a half hours of my posting! : ) hey what I said earlier: this is TOTALLY different from anything before. Trust me ; )

&*&*&

Buffy drew in a gasp. She rolled off the bed and curled up against a wall, hugging her knees to her chest. It couldn't be. Not now.

She felt hot tears stinging her eyes. She had come so far in the last two weeks. She had been taken halfway across the world, and still they were here.

Darla. Drusilla. Buffy should have known those voices. One of them had tried to kill her mother; the other had made her kill Kendra. Wait! Buffy thought. _I didn't kill Kendra,_ she told herself forcefully. Drusilla did. Not me. 

They had both said she was…she was one…of them. They were both witches, yes, and that in itself was strange. Buffy was surprised she didn't know. She could usually sense magic on people. But they weren't people. And Buffy was certain they weren't talking about being a witch when they said she was like them.

They were both evil. Murderesses. And, dead. But why, then, had they said so? They were pictures, damnit! How could they have know _anything_ about what was taking place on the other side of the world? And Buffy was NOT guilty. She didn't do it. Everyone was saying she did, and she was beginning to believe them. If she believed them herself, how could she ever hope to prove her innocence?

But Buffy _had _died. So, In theory, if she had died once, was she still dead? She had a pulse and breathed and moved and felt, but was she dead? No. Giles and Angel had said she was alive, and they knew what they were talking about.

Buffy brushed her tears away. She would find out, no matter what happened. She wearily got undressed, slipping a white nightgown over her head and crawling into her soft bed. She pulled the dark green coverlet up to her chin, and willed herself not to dream.

Not that it did any good, nowadays. The nightmares came unbidden, and unwanted.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Buffy awoke the next morning, slightly happier than she had been previously. True, she still had nightmares, and she was still lost, and accused of being a murderess. But now, she thought she had a friend. Or a potential friend.

And after last night, she had a goal. She got up slowly and stepped into her private bathroom. She hummed to herself quietly.

She had been here two weeks, and still Buffy marvelled at the marble décor. She filled the bathtub up with hot water, and added lots of pink bubbles, which smelled of rose and sandalwood.

After a good long soak, she wrapped her body in a fluffy emerald towel and dried off. After that, she dressed in her new school uniform.

She wrinkled her nose at the outfit. Pleated grey skirt, white blouse, robes, green tie, black, buckled _flat_ shoes. Not very modernised at all. Nevertheless, she put on the uniform and pulled a brush through her hair.

__

Don't look like a murderess, she thought bitterly, applying a bit of make up. Just for effect, she lined her eyes with the slightest hint of green, accentuating her hazel eyes. _Hazel eyes, blonde…_ Buffy thought. _At least Angelus was consistent._

With a roll of her eyes, she grabbed her books and walked out. Her first lesson was Potions, and that teacher she had – Snape – was just cool.

As she was walking to the Classroom, she passed the portrait of Darla. Scowling, she glared hard at the girl in purple.

"Question: how do you know so much about me, anyway?" 

Darla smiled. "Well, that's an interesting question, isn't it?"

"Just answer me."

Darla's eyes lost their gleam. "I visit Dru every now and then. Dru is still just a picture, but her image gets visions like she does in the real world. She keeps me posted on what's happening. As I said, I know who you are…what you are. Just like me." She finished simply with a sad smile. 

Buffy shook her head. This wasn't the same Darla who had tried to kill Joyce. This Darla hadn't been staked by Angel. But it was still her.

Buffy let it go, but she wasn't finished. "Thanks for being honest," she said truthfully, and scooted off to class.

She decided that she would look into the school records. They had to have some more information on these girls.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

During lunch break, Buffy escaped to the library. She walked gratefully through the doors, ignoring the chilly look Hermione sent her way.

Buffy went straight to the shelf marked 'Records' and searched until she found what she was looking for: a student record for 1780-1790.

The huge book was bound with a thick, blue spine., up on the highest shelf. Buffy needed a chair to reach it. The book weighed a ton, and Buffy, who was still under a tranquilliser, was not strong enough to carry it. She crumpled under the weight of it and almost fell over, if it were not for Harry, who was passing by. 

"Whoa!" he said, helping her with the book. "That's not a book, that's a weapon of mass destruction!"

She gave a small smile, and let him put it on a nearby desk for her. "Thanks," she said.

He grinned. "Always willing to help a damsel in distress," he said gallantly. She closed her eyes and shook her head, trying not to laugh. 

He looked closer at the title. "Hey, what's that for?" he asked curiously.

She coloured. "Oh, just checking out someone who went here…um…family member," she said, her stomach wrenching as she thought about being related to Drusilla. It made her blood boil. 

Harry shrugged. "Hey, Snape seemed to totally love you today during class," he said. "Must be a Slytherin thing, huh?"

Buffy pretended to be offended. "Of course not. It's my captivating charisma," she said dramatically, eliciting the laugh she expected.

He grinned. "You know what, Buffy?" he said.

"You're mad and I'm not."

"No," he smiled. "You're my new favourite Slytherin. Probably the only decent one I've ever met."

Buffy smiled, a big smile that made her feel free.

"Thanks." Then she sobered. "Hey, the rest of us must be pretty bad then," she added.

Harry lifted an eyebrow. "What, haven't you really met many?"

"Um…the only one I've met so far is Malfoy, and he's a bit arrogant. Charming when he wants to be, but still arrogant."

Harry pulled a face. "Charming?" he echoed disbelievingly. Then, he glanced at his watch. "Oh, I need to go. Bye, Buffy!" he said, and turned to leave.

Buffy was left alone with her book. She cracked open the heavy tome and closed her eyes when the aroma hit her. She missed the smell of musty books. It reminded her so much of Sunnydale…of Giles…of home.

Shaking her head to clear her nostalgic thoughts, she looked back down at the book. She turned page after page and finally found what she was looking for. 

****

Fifth years, 1782,it read.

She followed the list of names until she came across one she knew.

****

Edith, Drusilla*: Slytherin.

Buffy raised an eyebrow. Drusilla had always called her favourite doll "Miss Edith." Now, she knew why.

Buffy frowned suddenly when she noted the asterisk next to Drusilla's name. She skimmed through the next seven pages, but no other name had an asterisk. She turned to the appendix of the book.

****

*see reference to "_Vampyr_,"page 846.

Buffy felt a small smile creep onto her face. Did someone at Hogwarts know that Drusilla was a vampiress? They couldn't have. Buffy sat back in her chair, confused. But when Dru was at Hogwarts, she was human. She disappeared after that, and no one else knew that Angelus turned her.

Buffy slapped her forehead in annoyance when she remembered that Hermione had borrowed out that particular book. She would have to get it from her.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A long way away, in a cemetery, Lord Voldemort paced back and forth. His plan was simple: make friends with all the things that go bump in the night. Having allies was an obvious step in his journey back to the top. 

Vampires were his first choice. Sure, Dumbledore had thought he had wanted the giants, but that was just a diversion. Vampires were much more important.

And Voldemort wanted only the best in his allies. He wanted the best, oldest, most powerful vampire. 

He wanted the Master.

A dozen cloaked Death Eaters were hurrying to finish the potion. It was a similar ritual that they had used to restore Voldemort back to full strength: except Voldemort had at least been a body. Presently, Master Joseph Heinrich Nest was…well, not much. The slayer had crushed his bones into powder with a SledgeHammer months, almost a year ago. Not much to work with.

They had started a week ago, after the slayer had left Sunnydale. Now, they were working furiously to get the Master resurrected once again before the Harvest Moon.

Time was of the essence. They had already reformed a full skeleton from the powder; now all they had to do was give it flesh and life…well, unlife.

Voldemort cackled to himself. Yes, this would do very nicely. Any minute, they would have a new ally.

He waited another half hour. In that time, his Death Eaters had finished the potion, and lowered the skeleton into the cauldron.

He waited.

The potion bubbled and spurted. The ring of salt surrounding the area was rising and glowing. The potion turned a dark red colour; the colour of blood. It frothed and foamed, and finally stopped. 

The atmosphere was tense. All the Death Eaters had congregated in a circle around the ring of salt. They all held their breath and waited for the Master to emerge. 

Surprisingly enough, the figure was fully clothed and perfectly dry when he emerged. He wore his usual robes, black satin. He stood up slowly, and gazed upwards to the full moon. 

A terrible, blood-thirsty smile grew on his demonic face, and his yellow eyes cast about. The moonlight played on his fangs.

"Who brings me back?" he asked, in a controlled, perfectly articulated voice.

Voldemort stepped forward eagerly. "I do," he said in his high voice. "I am Lord Voldemort. I brought you back to be among us…to be my ally."

A voice called out gruffly from the crowd of Death Eaters. "Bow, vampire! Show respect for the Dark Lord!"

Voldemort grinned, a hideous sight; but now even he looked attractive when compared to the ancient demon in front of him.

The Master smiled calmly. He stepped out of the cauldron, standing tall on the grass on the graveyard under the stars.

"There is but one Dark Lord here," he said, full of certainty. "And this Snake One is not he."

With amazing agility, he sprang forward and brought his fangs down on Lord Voldemort's neck. The Master reached over and ripped the wand out of Voldemort's hand before he knew what had happened. Voldemort shrieked with anger as his jugular vein was pierced. 

"Do something! Stop him!" he screamed to his faithful Death Eaters, who were staring dumbly at the display before them. His cries stopped abruptly, as he was drained of blood. He fell limp to the ground

The Master stood up, and wiped his mouth with a handkerchief he produced from his pocket. "I am that Lord," he said calmly.

The Death Eaters were too scared to do anything. They just looked on fearfully.

He suddenly shuddered. "Oh, he was powerful, wasn't he?" The Master began to say to himself. "Magic…oh, he had lots of magic. And Unicorn blood…running through his veins…" with that he laughed loudly.

"For a vampire to drink unicorn blood! Oh, what a treat. Without the blood in his veins, he could die! Immortality _and_ taste, now there's a combination. So innocent…so pure…so delicious…"

"Now, my loyal subjects," he began, sweeping regally around the ring that they formed. "I am a very different Lord from what you're used to. I do not need useless lackeys." With that, he began to drain every single one.

"I only care for my family."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Buffy woke with a scream. It couldn't be true…he wasn't back…not again…

The portrait of Drusilla which served as Buffy's door began to shriek with joy.

"He's here! He's back!" she was shrieking. Buffy heard another voice join her.

"Dru?" it was Darla's voice. Apparently, she had moved into Drusilla's picture when she heard the noise. "What did you see?"

Buffy strained to hear. Dru had lowered her voice.

"Your Daddy," she said with glee. "He's returned."

Buffy swallowed. If Dru had seen it, maybe it wasn't just a dream.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Harry awoke sweating and cold at the same time. Did that really happen? Harry was almost sure he had seen Voldemort die. But he couldn't, could he?

He jumped out of bed shakily. He hadn't had a Voldemort-related dream since Sirius in his fifth year! And now…dead?

He held onto the side of his bed to keep from falling over. He pulled himself over to Ron's bed. He approached his best friend quietly, so as not to wake the other boys in his dorm.

"Ron! Ron," he hissed. The redheaded boy grumbled as he rolled over.

"Aw, wassamatter, 'Arry?" he groaned.

Harry bit his lip. "I had a dream. About – about You-Know-Who."

Ron's eyes widened, and he rubbed his face to wake himself up. "What, again? This hasn't happened since…" he broke off, looking at Harry disbelievingly.

Harry nodded, and looked at him closely. "Um..,something pretty weird happened. I don't know if it's true…if it can ever be true…"

He broke off, looking concerned. Ron yawned. "Okay. Well, how about we wake up Hermione first, so you don't have to tell us twice?"

Harry nodded; it seemed logical.

After they had successfully gotten Hermione out of the Girls' Dorms, which was no easy feat – they had to use the invisibility cloak – they huddled up in the Common Room, and Harry relayed his dream.

By the end, Ron was looking ecstatic, while Hermione was looking thoughtful. He looked over at the brunette to see what she thought.

"Well…I don't know. The ritual sounds tricky; I've never heard of it before. But…the death sounds possible." At this, Harry raised an eyebrow.

"But I thought with the unicorn blood running through his veins, he couldn't be killed? He was – is – immortal!"

Hermione tilted her head to one side and grinned excitedly. "Except by a vampire! Vampires drain their victims of blood! If You-Know-Who was drained, all the blood running through his veins would have been sucked out; and he would have been able to die!"

Ron gasped. "We need to see Dumbledore!"

&*&*&

hey people. Different much??? Spread the word: I KILL VOLDIE!!! MWAHAHAHAHA Don't worry, there is still lots of evil to fight. Please review, tell me how I'm going. Do you think it's all coming a bit too fast? Should I go on with my plot and do romances later, or establish my pairings first? I'm feeling way loved.

In 2 chappies, this fic has twice the reviews of my first fic, which currently has 20 chappies! Huh, this one must either be much better or much worse. ; ) tell me which please!

REVIEW!!!

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	4. Friends and Slytherin

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A/N

Hey thanks people for reviews. Grr I know this is taking ages, but my damn computer is dying. I'm sorry. : ( please keep reviewing!!!

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Buffy was waiting outside Dumbledore's office, very puffed. She had run the whole way there, and her stamina was still low from the injection she had that morning.

She had decided to wait until morning before alerting anyone about her dream. Finding herself unable to fall back asleep, she had lain awake until the sun rose with a tight, sick feeling in her stomach. She was waiting for ages outside the Stone Gargoyle until the door opened.

"Come in, Miss Summers," came the old man's voice from inside. Buffy ran up the circular stairway and skidded to a halt in front of his desk, panicking.

"Professor Dumbledore! I…I know you don't really trust me that much at the moment…at all…but there's something you need to know. I had a dream…" she said this all in a frenzied rush, then broke off, looking around her.

She noticed that Harry was sitting in a chair to the side of her, with his mouth wide open in shock. Her face drained of colour.

Great, she thought to herself. My only friend, and now he thinks I'm a nutcase. She shut her mouth quickly, and her gaze darted to Dumbledore.

"Um…Professor..?" she looked at him worriedly.

The old man almost smiled. Harry, for his part, was stunned. Buffy had a dream, too? And why was Dumbledore looking so…stern…and angry? Like he didn't approve of Buffy. Harry shook his head in wonder, and waited.

Dumbledore leaned forward, regarding the tiny blonde before him with a closed expression. "Indeed, Miss Summers? Well, don't let me stop you. please tell me what it was about."

Buffy gulped and again, her eyes darted over to where Harry was sitting. Dumbledore, however, was looking at her intently, and those eyes were starting to creep Buffy out. 

She bit her lip before continuing. "Ah…Professor…This is kinda private, if you know what I mean…"she broke off.

Dumbledore merely raised his eyebrows and gestured towards Harry. "Miss Summers, Mr Potter here has also had an odd dream last night. Concerning Voldemort."

Buffy stared at him before realisation hit. "Oh! You mean that Snake-dude? I didn't know who he was. Zoltanord, huh. Weird name." She shrugged.

Harry's eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Dumbledore sat up straighter, his eyes brightening a bit. His mouth, however, was still set in a grim line. "Voldemort, Miss Summers. Voldemort. Yes, Mr Potter had a dream that he was killed last night by a vampire."

Buffy shuddered involuntarily. Not just any vampire, she thought to herself. "That's just what happened in my dream!" she exclaimed.

Harry looked confused. "How did that happen? I only get those visions because our minds have a connection. Why did you get it?"

Buffy blanched and looked at Dumbledore. He frowned. "Mr Potter, I have no idea. Please return to Gryffindor Tower; I wish to speak to Miss Summers alone. If anything else happens, please inform me immediately."

Harry got up, still looking stunned, and walked out of the room. Once he had closed the oak door behind him, Buffy breathed a sigh of relief and looked at Dumbledore, falling in Harry's empty seat.

"That was close…he almost found out…" she muttered to herself. 

"Miss Summers: how _did_ you get that dream?" Dumbledore asked.

Buffy closed her eyes. "It's a slayer thing," she said quietly. "Some slayers get prophetic dreams. I do." She sat silently, looking at her hands. "So, who's this Vulcantar guy? Big Bad?" she asked.

Dumbledore sighed sadly. "Voldemort is a wizard feared throughout our world. He has killed a great number of people and tortured twice that many. He persecutes those who are not pure-bloods. His very name is feared, even today."

"Okay, so what's Harry got to do with him?"

"Lord Voldemort attacked Harry's family when he was a year old. To cut a long story short, as you Americans say, Harry survived. His mother's love saved him, and the killing curse rebounded on Voldemort. He went into hiding for eleven years, but last year he returned to full power. Most of our people are very frightened right now. The Minister of Magic, however, is in denial."

Dumbledore's brow furrowed and he tutted. "Now, Mr Potter seems to have had the same dream as you. Would you like to hear his side of it?"

Buffy nodded silently. 

"Well, he said that Voldemort wanted a vampire to be his ally in his war against the light. Apparently, he used a resurrection spell to bring the demon back. Once he had risen, the vampire attacked Voldemort and killed him."

Buffy glared at her clenched fists angrily. "Yeah. That's what happened," she said harshly, choking back a sob. She took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down.

Dumbledore tilted his head to the side inquisitively. "And what seems to have you so upset, Miss Summers?" he asked quietly.

Buffy pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. "'Cause…because it happened in a cemetery. Restfield Cemetery, actually," she uttered. She looked up at the old man.

"It's a cemetery in Sunnydale."

Dumbledore's eyes widened, and he stood up abruptly. He pushed away his chair and walked over to a birdcage on the wall, and began stroking the bird inside absent-mindedly. Judging by its flame-y plumage, Buffy guessed it was a phoenix. Huh. Until now, she had figured that they were a myth. Amazing the things you discover when your friends think you're a cold blooded killer.

"Is this all you are upset about?" he asked, his eyes boring into hers as he searched for an answer. 

Buffy looked up defiantly. "No." she said with conviction, almost like she was insulted. Honestly, did he think she was that stupid?

"I know that demon. He isn't just any vampire, Professor. He's…he…he's called the Master." She laughed suddenly, her eyes bright.

"I've fought him before. I've killed him. I've even smashed his bones to powder with a SledgeHammer when they tried to bring him back last time."

Her voice now had a new edge; a sharper, angrier tone. Dumbledore was surprised, and felt a bit sickened. The girl was here because she had murdered one of her friends, her sister-slayer at that. How dare she talk so crudely about killing?

He felt nausea bubble up inside of him. This girl had no reservations about killing. She even sounded like she enjoyed slaying the vampire.

"Is that all, Miss Summers?" he said, his voice not betraying his emotions. She laughed again.

"Not really. I'm just wigged because…well, he killed me too."

Dumbledore froze. "_What?" _he asked incredulously. 

"Yeah. Last time I fought him, he bit me," she said, pulling her white uniform blouse off her shoulder to show the scar that still marked her neck. Twin bite marks, piercing her jugular vein. "He half drained me, but then my blood opened the Hellmouth. I was still alive, just a bit, but I couldn't move or do anything. He dropped me into a pool of water, and I drowned."

Dumbledore sat in rigid silence. "What happened?" he asked.

Buffy felt a lump in her throat. "Ang…Angelus found me. My friend Xander gave me CPR. That's why Kendra was called." She trailed off.

Dumbledore once again felt sickened when Buffy mentioned Kendra's name. He looked at her.

"I think it is true then. Voldemort is dead."

Buffy nodded with a cynical smile. "Well duh. Of course he is. But he's not your problem now. The Master is."

The grey old man smiled. "No need to worry. Voldemort is dead!"

He walked to his desk and wrote a quick note, giving it to a small owl, which hopped over to him. He tied the note to the bird's leg.

"I must inform Rupert of this immediately. He can take care of the bodies."

Buffy barely blinked at the mention of her Watcher's name. She really didn't care any more. They all thought she was a murderess, what really mattered now?

"Believe me when I say you have your work cut out for you now," she drawled. "This guy is not an easy one to kill."

Dumbledore shrugged. "But not impossible. He is just a vampire, after all," he said cheerily. "Miss Summers, you may return to your common room now. Thank

you."

Buffy shrugged and smiled as she got back up. Ha! There's no way I'm fighting him this time, she thought to herself confidently. No way in hell.

After a short walk, Buffy made it back to the Slytherin common room. Passing the portrait of Darla, she stopped for a chat.

"Hey, Darla," she said warily. Even if she was just a picture, she was still Darla. "Hear what happened last night?"

The strawberry blonde vampiress/witch nodded. "Yes. Drusilla had another vision about it. My Sire's been brought back." She gave a malicious, sadistic grin. "Can't say I was upset. You?"

Buffy sighed and rubbed her face with her hand. "Tell you the truth, I couldn't care less any more. No way I'm going to fight him this time. I mean, why should I?" she asked, her voice rising as she grew more aggressive. 

"What's the side of 'good' done for me lately?"

Darla's eyes sparkled and she gave a derisive smile. "Not much, I gather." she said sarcastically.

"Ha! My own friends think I'm a murderess, and cart me off to here as a prison. After all we've been through, and they don't trust me. I tried to kill the Master before, and he ended up killing me instead."

Darla shrugged philosophically. "Hmm. Good never really worked for me either. I got sick with syphilis because I needed to work to feed my starving family. I thought I was being a good girl, having the last rites performed before I died. The priest said I would never have a life in heaven for my lack of chastity; my sins were too great," she said with disgust and scorn. Then, her eyes shone. 

"The Master gave me an afterlife anyway."

Buffy's eyes narrowed. "You mean an unlife," she grated. "He tried to give me that, too. Didn't finish the job, though. I wasn't turned; I was just left to die."

Darla looked at her piercingly. "Maybe it just wasn't your time," she said under her breath. Then, so Buffy could hear her, she said more loudly, "Friends turned on you, then?" 

"Yeah. With friends like these, who needs enemies? Me, obviously." Buffy mused.

Darla gave a mirthful laugh. "Haven't you heard about Slytherin?" she asked. "According to the Sorting Hat, Slytherin is where you make your true friends."

Her voice echoed in Buffy's head. She looked doubtful. "Not for me. I only really know two people in Slytherin. I've been here for two weeks, and you're my closest friend out of the two people I know so far. The only other is that prick Malfoy. It's pretty sad, you know. You – real you – tried to kill my mother. You were killed by Angelus. We're kinda enemies."

Darla looked thoughtful. "As you pointed out before: with friends like these, who needs enemies."

Buffy laughed scornfully. "Too true, in my case."

Darla pursed her lips. She stood in her picture gracefully, and smoothed out her dark purple dress, toying with her many black pearls. 

"As I told you earlier – I know what you are. You're just like me. We're one in the same. We may not be friends right now, but we've a lot in common."

With that, she dismissed Buffy and walked out of her picture. Buffy cried out, "Wait!" but it was too late; Darla had already left. Buffy turned to the left and just saw Darla passing through a painting further down the dungeon corridor, being ogled at by the warlocks in it brewing a potion.

Buffy raised her eyebrows but let it go. She walked back to her common room with a somewhat lighter heart than she had that morning. Darla was really confusing, and she kept making Buffy feel like a murderess. Something dirty. A sinner, a criminal. But despite that, she had put things in perspective a bit.

True friends, huh. Well, she'd see about that. As Buffy reached her common room, she realised that the Platinum Prick himself was staring at her. He came over and pulled her aside.

"Summers," he said as a greeting.

She narrowed her eyes and leaned up against the cold stone wall in the common room. "What do you want, Malfoy? I'm beneath you, remember."

His raised a brow, and seemed to be analysing her. "I don't think you are beneath me. Never did."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Then what was with the dismissal and insults? Some weird thing you Brits do?"

He smirked that Spike-y smirk. "Not really. I just wanted to see how you'd react. Judge your character."

Buffy folded her arms across her chest defensively. "Oh, and did I pass?" she asked calculatingly.

Malfoy sneered. "I suppose," he drawled. "Sorry if you were upset. I was just testing." He said, not sounding very genuine at all. "It's okay to socialise."

Buffy laughed incredulously. "Thanks for the permission," she said, shaking her head with disbelief. She was caught off-guard when Malfoy put out his hand.

"Friends?" he asked, although it was more of a statement than a request.

Buffy took his hand. She had noted that a lot of students seemed to almost fear the blonde man. Clearly, he had a lot of respect.

She smiled genuinely. "Sure," and shook his hand. Smiling to herself, she walked over to the portrait of Drusilla: her room. She had just uttered the password when she noticed that Darla was sitting with Drusilla. 

"Morningstar…Oh! Darla," she acknowledged the vampiress. Darla nodded and smiled, with a swish of her glossy strawberry hair. "So that's where you got to."

The vampire gave a shrewd smile. "Where you meet your true friends," she repeated from before.

Buffy tilted her head to the side. Malfoy, huh? Oh well. As far as friends go, he was pretty average. Then, Buffy was all business. 

"Hang on, Darla – what do you mean, 'I'm just like you'? do you mean a witch? A Slytherin?"

Darla frowned. "Both, really. But that's not what I'm talking about. Haven't you found out yet? I'd have thought it obvious," she said incredulously.

Buffy glared. "Hey, I'm not a scholar. I don't know stuff like that off the top of my head!"

Drusilla hummed and started to sway. "Miss Edith says you should ask someone who is," she drawled in her cockney accent, adding a sing-song quality to her voice. The dark vampiress giggled to herself. 

Draco had noticed Buffy talking to that insane witch in the portrait of Buffy's room wearing black and red. He began to walk over to ask her about it. The blonde American girl ignored him.

"We're one in the same." Darla said confidently, grinning.

Buffy furrowed her brow and pushed inside her room, flopping on the bed. She growled when she remembered that she still needed to get _Vampyr_ back from Hermione. Buffy really didn't relish doing it.

Then, in a flash of insight, Buffy realised. Hermione was a scholar! She was uber-smart…and uber-nasty. She rolled her eyes. After the Master, she could hardly be intimidated by Hermione's coldness towards her.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ten hours later, Dumbledore sat in his office, reading a letter from Rupert Giles.

__

Dear Albus, it read.

__

Thank you so much for taking care of Buffy. I'm much happier that she isn't in a Council Institute. 

To business, I have located the body of You-Know-Who. It has been cremated. Just yesterday, the new Slayer moved to Sunnydale to replace Buffy. Her name is Faith. She seems happy enough, and is fitting in nicely. She accompanied me on my excursion to Restfield, and we disposed of the remaining corpses of Death Eaters together.

At this, Dumbledore gasped. He didn't know that the vampire had killed other wizards. He read on.

__

The total death count was fourteen. I must warn you; do not underestimate the powers of the Master. He is an ancient evil, and he is very dangerous.

Thank you again.

Sincerley, Rupert Giles.

&*&*&

A/N 

Hello my pretties. Oooh, for some reason I feel really empowered after writing Voldie's demise. Almost as if as I wrote it, it was really happening, and I killed this huge evil. Heeheeheee it was fun!!!!!

Huh. I really am crazy.

Anyhoo, thanks for all the super reviews, and a pout to all those not-so-super ones. 

PLEASE review, I'm living off them!!! And if you have time, have a squiz at my other (more original and longer) fic – the Eight of Prophecy. It's HP, with BtVS elements.

ReViEw!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 


	5. Disappearances and Marks

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A/N hey everyone!!! Lotsa people have been asking 'why don't they just give Buffy a Veritaserum and absolve (didn't know that was a word) her from her guilt. If that happened, she would go back to Sunnydale Happy as Larry and I wouldn't have a fic to write about lol. Thanks for reviews!!! They're all welcome!

IMPORTANT

Now, for plot reasons only, Buffy staked Drusilla and Spike, after Angelus was sent to hell. ANGELUS, NOT ANGEL. This is really important to the storyline. Thanks heaps!

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Buffy hummed as she waited in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Duh? She was the Slayer! As if she really needed it. She was sitting in her usual chair, bopping her head in time with the music in her head. She was tapping a quill against the hard, rich, oak desk when the girl she had been waiting for arrived.

"Hermione," Buffy greeted her warmly, pretending that they were friends.

The brunette nodded. "Summers," she said indifferently. Buffy winced inwardly.

"Yikes. Anyone else feel suddenly colder?" she joked, looking towards Harry and Ron, who had just entered the room behind her. Ron sneered at her, but Harry had the decency to laugh.

"Cool it, ladies," he teased. 

Hermione had just narrowed her eyes. "Can I help you, Summers?" she said, a little less curtly than before.

Buffy almost shrugged. Oh, well. This was as good as things were going to get. "Yeah. You know that library book I gave you, _Vampyr_? I was wondering if I could have it. There's a couple of things I want to look at."

Hermione regarded her for a moment. "Sure," she said after a while, and pulled the book out of her shoulder satchel. She handed the book to Buffy, who took it calmly. 

"Thanks," she said off-handedly, already starting to pack it away. Hermione wasn't finished, though.

"So, I suppose you like Defence?" she said in a conversational tone. Buffy looked closer though, and saw that she was looking very shrewd.

"Yeah, I do. Why?" Buffy answered, also in a pleasant tone.

Hermione shrugged. "Well, I mean, that book is really useful for people who like to learn about DADA. I mean, there are so many ways to kill that I didn't know about…only evil things, of course."

Hermione almost spat out the word 'kill'. The way she said the last part was so sickly sweet and naïve, Buffy shuddered. She was still staring at Buffy so intensely that the blonde felt the hairs rising on the back of her neck. She forced herself to remain neutral. 

"Yeah. Well, I suppose you learn something new everyday. But not you, surely. I've heard you're a total brain. I'm sure you know lots of ways to kill already," she said lightly. The brunette raised her eyebrows, and she smiled somewhat coldly. 

"Excuse me, class is about to start." With that, Hermione swept away with Ron to where the Gryffindors sat, and placed herself on her chair delicately. Buffy scowled inwardly. Who did she think she was? Cordelia? Please. After the Queen of Nasty back in Sunnydale, Hermione was nothing.

Presently, Harry grimaced, watching his two Gryffindor friends sit. "Ouch. You ladies really don't get along, do you?" it was more of an observation than a question. 

Buffy 'hmmed'. "Yeah. You get that, I suppose. What with me being a scary Slytherin," she added, rolling her eyes comically. Just then, she felt a hand on her elbow. 

"Not as scary as me," Malfoy said smoothly, meeting Harry's eye. 

Harry looked decidedly unimpressed, and rolled his eyes. "The only thing scary about you is the hair," he said flatly, and winked at Buffy. "Later, Buff." He sat down in a chair next to Ron, but still across the aisle from Buffy. 

The blonde girl smirked. Malfoy ignored the last jibe with dignity and sat down, Buffy following his example. She plonked herself down on a chair and swung her legs around, picking up a quill. She found it quite entertaining that she was situated in between Harry and Malfoy, but was disappointed when the DADA Professor came in because it called a halt to the exchange. 

Buffy didn't really pay much attention during her DADA class. They were learning about Ascensions or something like that. She honestly couldn't give a fried fig. She didn't care about any of her studies, actually. Life is for living, she thought to herself. Living, not becoming a stuffy Giles wannabe.

During one of her frequent daydreaming sessions during the lesson, Buffy's glazed eyes were wandering around the room. Her gaze met Harry's and he winked at her again. She grinned and snapped back to reality, winking back. She blew him a kiss just to see his reaction. As she predicted, he grinned and looked back at the teacher. After a few seconds, he whipped back to look at her and mouthed 'boring'. Buffy just rolled her eyes and stifled a yawn.

Next to her, she felt Malfoy nudge her gently. "Flirting with Potter the poof, are we?" he whispered silkily. Buffy pulled a face.

"I have no idea what a poof is, but I'll bet it ain't nice. Must be British slang," she whispered back dryly. "Besides, what's it to you? Jealous?" she teased.

Malfoy chuckled quietly, so as not to draw attention from the DADA Professor. "Hardly. I'm just surprised you pick Peaches there." 

Buffy felt a jolt. Peaches. That was the name Spike always used to call Angel, when her ex was a white-hat. She supposed it meant goody-two-shoes or something to that effect. Huh. Malfoy resembled Spike in so many ways, it was unnerving. She shivered. That hair, that attitude…it was bizarre. 

"You remind me so much of Spike," she said to him quietly. Looking across the room, she briefly saw Harry look at her conversing with Malfoy. He looked a bit irritated, like he didn't want them socialising.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

She smirked. "Yeah. He was an arrogant bad-ass prick as well."

Malfoy almost laughed. "Lovely. So you think I'm an arrogant bad-ass prick?" he asked, amused.

She gave a grin. "Hell yeah."

"Summers! What did I just say?" the Professor quizzed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Buffy was walking back along the Slytherin corridor towards her common room with Malfoy. He was chatting pleasantly. She was glad to have another friend. 

She paused as they passed the portrait that held Darla. Buffy smiled and began to say hello, but her words were halted when she realised that the vampiress was not there.

She pulled a face and turned to Malfoy. "Don't know where she's gone to. These picture things are still really weird to me. I mean, if I take a picture, it's because I want to look at it whenever I want! It's just annoying the way the people go all the time."

He smirked. "Yeah. I suppose you're just used to the muggle way of things." 

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Do you know you have a non-magic complex?"

He snorted. "Hardly."

They continued their banter, and Buffy was just passing when she saw something weird. There was a small mark in the portrait. Buffy paused and pulled Malfoy to the side, peering around him. She squinted at the small mark adorning the bottom-left hand corner.

It was in red, and stood out against the brown of the chair Darla usually sat on. The mark wasn't just a mark…Buffy scowled when she thought she recognised it from Sunnydale. 

The mark was a strange triangle thingy. Buffy felt her throat contract. It was the mark that she had seen first when she was sixteen.

The mark of the Apocalypse. The mark of the Master.

Buffy's face bleached of colour. She grit her teeth, and stared at the mark fiercely. Malfoy pulled a face.

"Summers? What's the matter?" he drawled. She closed her eyes to clear her head, and gave a little shake.

"Oh, don't even go there."

He remained uncertain. "Right…okay then, if you're sure." With that, he shrugged and began walking again. She fell instep beside him. They didn't speak for the remainder of the journey. Once Buffy reached the common room, she ran to her room and opened the book. _Vampyr_ to page 846. Buffy ran her eyes down the page and cursed.

She couldn't read a bloody thing. 

She looked at a few of the words and frowned. She recognised a couple of words…

Il vampiro altico si chiama Il Maestro…

Buffy pulled a face. Maestro? That sounded Italian. There was a whole page of Italian she needed to read, and couldn't. She growled in frustration, and heard an echo in her stomach. Glancing at her watch, she realised that it was lunchtime. 

Grabbing the book to puzzle over during her meal, she walked quickly to the Great Hall. 

She had a quiet lunch. Malfoy still didn't know what all the fuss was about, so he left her in relative peace while she tried to make sense of the book. People were drifting out of the Great Hall after a while, but she stayed where she was. 

She was wearing a terrible frown and glaring very hard at the book, daring it not to reveal its secrets, when she felt a pair of hands over her eyes.

"Guess who?" came a seductive male voice. Buffy grinned underneath.

"Malfoy," she said innocently.

The man behind her withdrew his hands with a grump and sat down beside her. "How'd you guess?" Harry said sarcastically from beside the blonde girl.

"So, what're you doing over here at the Slytherin table?" Buffy asked conversationally.

Harry gave a dashing grin. "Well, I saw a damsel in distress and took advantage of the situation. What's the problem?" he asked.

Buffy pulled a weary hand over her face. "Ugh, it's this book," she groaned. "The whole frigging page I want to read is in Italian. Can't read it," she said gloomily.

Harry shrugged and pulled the book closer to him. "Isn't that a pity." After a moment, he looked up. "Don't know why you'd want to anyway," he said.

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"

"Well, it's really boring. 'The Ancient Vampire calls itself the Master…'"

Buffy's jaw dropped. She grabbed both his broad shoulders and turned him to face her directly. "You can understand Italian?" she asked incredulously. 

Harry grinned. "Italian, Latin, Romany, Arabic, French, Gaelic and German," he said modestly. "Oh, and English."

Buffy pulled a face. "Why the hell would you know all those?" she asked, staring at him like he was crazy.

He shrugged. "Muggle family made me learn Italian, German and French. I had no choice. The others were a course I took last year."

"Whatever. Book freak," Buffy zinged. 

Harry shook his head. "No. Apart from the languages, I'm not a book person at all. I like living life, not learning about it."

Buffy gave a small smile. "I think I know what you're getting at."

He picked up her hand and kissed it roguishly. "So, my lady, do you want me to translate?"

Buffy looked relieved. "I would love you to."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A few hours later, Buffy was sitting in the library once again. Hse really liked her little corner. It was small, and the dècor reminded her of Sunnydale…without the friends who thought she was a murderess. Stupid Scoobies.

Presently, a dark haired man walked around the corner with a book under his arm. It was Harry, and he was looking quite pleased with himself for the task he had done. He sat down on a chair next to Buffy.

"Here you go. It's pretty weird," he said, looking a bit confused, really. "I still don't know why you'd want to read it."

Buffy just smiled gratefully and began to read. It was pretty long. 

__

The Ancient Vampire calls itself the Master. He is from the Order of Aurelius, and is noted as being the first vampire ever to turn a witch1, several hundred years ago….

Buffy's brows raised. The Master turned a witch? Darla! They must be talking about Darla. Then it went on and on about a lot of stuff that Buffy already knew about him. She skimmed the page quickly for something she didn't know. She stopped when she found something.

__

The Master was hunted by a slayer last in 1865, by Angela Martignetti, an Italian girl. She is my Slayer. The Master defeated Angela by putting her in a coma, and leaving her for dead. He was opening the Hellmouth in the New World when he trapped himself by accident. Now, my Angela is fighting Veronique instead…

Buffy shook her head in wonder. This guy must have been a Watcher. She ignored all the stuff about Veronique, and skimmed to the bottom of the page.

__

Excerpt from the Diary of Peter Toscano, Watcher. 

Then, she glanced at the footnote beneath. 1: _This witch was also a slayer. She became very powerful indeed. There have only ever been two circumstances of a witch/slayer before. This is a very dangerous combination, as witch/slayers are unstable, with too much power. Both have been turned, and are still a major threat to people today. Together, they make up half of the Scourge of Europe._

Buffy gaped and pushed the book away from her. "What?" she screeched. Harry looked up, alarmed. 

"Hey, relax," he said smoothly, putting a hand on her arm. "What's wrong?"

"Darla? A slayer? So _that's_ what she meant!" she exclaimed in sudden realisation, thumping her hand on the table. She was shaking her head in disbelief. 

Harry frowned in thought, and rubbed the back of his neck. "We studied slayers and watchers and all that in DADA last year," he said. "What are you talking about?"

Buffy ran a hand through her hair. "There's a painting in the Slytherin passageway of Darla. I've met Darla – vampire Darla, and I didn't know that she was a witch or a slayer."

Harry tilted his head to the side and glanced at her. "So you came here and discovered that she was a witch, huh?"

"Yeah. And she's been saying stuff like 'We're one in the same,' but I never knew what she meant."

Harry lifted an eyebrow. "Sure you did. You knew that she was a witch, as well…" Harry trailed off, looking at Buffy hard. Buffy felt herself going slightly pink. 

"That's not what you're talking about, is it." It was more of a statement than a question. Buffy gulped.

"Um, no. Promise you won't tell anyone?" she asked desperately.

Harry nodded conspiratorially, and Buffy had just opened her mouth when there was a rustle from behind them. 

"Won't tell what?" It was Platinum Prick again. Malfoy sauntered up and sat down at the table, on the other side of Buffy. Harry looked annoyed. 

"Malfoy, why don't you just - "

" – it's okay, Harry. He already knows. Dumbledore told the teachers, Malfoy and Granger. But don't either of you tell anyone else." Buffy warned both men with a glare.

Harry nodded and urged her on, while Malfoy sat back and folded his arms behind his head.

"I'm…" she looked around nervously. "I'm a Slayer." Harry looked at her hard. 

"I figured that out. When you said you weren't a witch. But why are you here, when you should be out fighting evil?"

Buffy coloured a deep crimson. "Ugh, well…um, I, er, you see…" she stammered, finding herself unable to form a proper sentence. She looked pleadingly to Malfoy for help.

He rolled his eyes and explained. "Summers is here because apparently she murdered her sister-slayer in cold blood," he said in a bored tone.

Harry sat back and regarded the blonde girl for a while. "Uh huh," he said.

Buffy slapped Malfoy hard upside the head. It really didn't have much of an effect, thanks to a certain tranquilliser. "I didn't do it! The Watchers' Council thinks I did, though, so they shipped me off to the Mother Country for rehab. I staked the vamp who killed her, though."

Harry looked at her, amusedly. "You're so little," he laughed. "No offence, but you don't look like a save-the-world type."

Buffy glared hard. "Tell that to Acathla," she muttered. Then, she shrugged. "That would be why Hermione doesn't like me," she said with a smile. "I'm a bad girl."

Harry rolled his eyes with a grin. Buffy was about to say something when she sat up ramrod straight and clapped a hand to her forehead. "Wow!" she exclaimed. "Dru must be the other witch/slayer!"

She sobered. "You know what this means?" she questioned, looking concerned. "I'm the third witch/slayer ever. And the Sorting Hat!" she said. "It told me that the last Slayer it sorted was in Slytherin as well! That must have been Drusilla!" 

Buffy sat back in her chair, trying to digest all this new information. _Witch/Slayers aren't stable…they are a dangerous combination….too much power…._

Buffy began to feel light-headed. Malfoy frowned. "I think you need to get back to your room, ducks," he said. "You look a bit shocked still."

Harry nodded. "I'll have to agree with Ferret boy," he said seriously. "I promise, I won't tell anyone."

With that, the two boys lead her out of the library. They parted ways, and Malfoy took her back to the Slytherin rooms.

Buffy said the password to her room to the portrait of Drusilla, who was cackling maniacally. Buffy leaned in closer to the panting.

"What's up, Dru?" she said tiredly. 

The vampiress giggled. "Said you were one of us," she sang softly in a told-you-so tone. Buffy rolled her eyes. 

"Whatever. Hey, where'd Darla go? I want to talk to her," Buffy inquired.

The brunette bit her bottom lip. "Daddy wants his princess. Daddy gets his princess."

Buffy made a face. "You're not talking about Angelus, are you?"

Drusilla didn't make any indication of hearing her. She swayed back and forth.

"Il Maestro ha sua figlia."

Buffy blinked. "In American, please?"

"The Master has his daughter. He brought Grandmother back." She began to dance and spin and twirl. 

"We're going to be a family again!" she shrieked, and disappeared with a joyful scream. 

There was a burst of purple light from the painting, and Buffy and Malfoy were thrown backwards. They hit the opposite wall. At this time, no one else was in the common room, so they were quite alone during this sequence of events. Buffy blinked, and got up slowly and painfully. She pulled herself over to the portrait where Drusilla had once been, and put her hand onto the surface. 

Drusilla had gone, and in her place was the same mark that was on Darla's painting. 

The Mark of the Apocalypse. The Mark of the Master. 

&*&*&

A/N

Hey everyone! Things are starting to pick up pace now, aren't they? Well, we've discovered a whole swag of new info, and I can finally say that my plot is heading in a direction that I like. I can't wait to write the next part!!! Kudos to all my reviewers. I got one really nice review and wrote like 6 pages because I was motivated. Imagine what 5 reviews can do! (hint hint) I love it when you guys try to guess where I'm going with this. Please review, or email me. Or, hey, add me on msn! I love talking about HP and Buffy. In case you've read it, there was reference here to "Immortal", a Buffy book by Christopher Golden and Nancy Holder. I recommend reading it. I'll update soon, if you review…: P

ReViEw!!


	6. Resurrections and Golf

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A/N hello, my faithful readers. Rose-Riddle3223 is sobbing over keyboard I cannot believe how many reviews I just got in like one day!!! And on the second day, I got even more!!! I love you people O so much….I feel so loved: ) I remain true to my word: you all reviewed, and now I am typing. Ah, what a wonderful system we have! Oooh and all my exams have just finished today, so now I can actually WRITE MY FIC! That is, unless my poor old PC dies on me again. Oh well. I try.

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Buffy gaped and put her hand on the canvas. It was very warm to touch. She swallowed and looked around for Malfoy. He was picking himself up off the ground, trying to regain his shattered dignity.

"Crap! What was that?" he asked. Buffy shook her head.

"The Master. Again."

Malfoy frowned. "Again? You mean that's what happened to the bird in purple as well?"

"Darla."

"Yeah, her. Dru said something about him wanting his princess…she must mean the Master wanted Darla back! and when she said they were going to be a family again…" Buffy faltered and faded out. 

A family again? From Buffy's memory of him, the Master always considered the vampires he sired to be his family. The Scourge of Europe – Darla, Drusilla, Angelus and Spike – had been a family. Dru was forever calling Darla and Angelus her Grandmother and Daddy. 

Buffy swallowed and sat down in one of the rich, embroidered velvet armchairs in the Slytherin common room. She absently played with the doily as she thought.

They couldn't be a family again! Not anymore. Well, the Master was back. That much was true. But Angel had staked Darla, so she was dead. Buffy herself had staked Drusilla and Spike, so they were out of the picture. And she had sent Angelus to hell. That only left the Master, and he couldn't be his own family unless he…

Buffy stopped and closed her eyes. She felt giddy all of a sudden. She gave a small laugh and smiled to herself.

"You really have to hand it to him," she said evenly to Malfoy. "I mean, this is pretty amazing. The Master is one clever boy. He's been eating his blood-soaked Weet-Bix."

The Platinum Prick blinked. "Kindly remember – I don't speak American," he sneered.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Resurrection! He's bringing Darla and Dru back to life. That's the only explanation for all this."

Buffy paused. Which Darla would come back? It could be the modern Darla who tried to kill her mother, or it could be the one in the purple dress at Hogwarts whom she had girlie talks with. The evil one, or the nice one?

Buffy frowned and tapped her temple with a quill that had found its way into her hand unbeknownst to her while she was fiddling. She noticed briefly that Malfoy had gone.

Maybe it was both Darlas? Two in one? For some reason, he needed the image of the vampiresses to resurrect them. So maybe, they were recreated using that mould? Buffy shrugged. Sounded plausible.

Buffy ran a tired hand through her hair. It was starting to get late. She yawned loudly and stood up slowly, holding her back, which still hurt a little after the power from the portrait threw her across the room.

She rubbed her eyes tiredly, and began to walk back up to her private room where Drusilla's portrait had been before. Now, the picture was empty. The frame was hanging off the wall slightly, so Buffy was still able to inch it open and get inside. 

She glanced up at the muggle clock she had and realised that it was really quite late. She must have been in that chair thinking for hours! Eyes wide with disbelief, the blonde girl started to get ready for bed. She washed her face, cleaned her teeth, changed into her favourite blue satin nightie and brushed her hair. 

She crawled under the dark green sheets all Slytherins had. Reaching over, she closed the curtains around her bed, and slowly fell asleep. 

The next day, Buffy met up with Harry in the library to tell him everything.

"…and now, it looks like they're back." Buffy finished. Harry looked impressed.

"Wow. Industrious," he commented. Buffy looked at him despairingly, but with a smile. 

"That's all you can say? Industrious? I would have gone with dangerous, at least. Deadly is good."

Harry smirked, looking at her amusedly. "Think you're confused, Buff. Voldemort was deadly. I should know. Can't compare him with some vampire."

Buffy smiled. "Nah. The Master's worse."

"What can be worse than almost killing you six times?"

Buffy blinked. "Didn't I tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"Oops. The Master DID kill me."

Harry stopped. "How?"

"Bit and drowned me. My frie-" she stopped. "-Xander brought me back. CPR."

Harry shook his head, and a stray lock of dark hair fell over his face. Buffy smiled and it took all of her willpower not to stroke it away.

"You're an unusual girl, you know that?" he drawled with a charming grin.

Buffy felt herself smiling back. She looked at him, and was lost in a sea of emerald green that gleamed when she looked into them. She felt her heart beating faster.

"Hey, do you wear contacts?" she asked. "You just have the coolest eyes."

Harry smiled. "Yeah, but I wear clear ones. Used to have glasses until two years ago," he shuddered, running a hand through his dark hair, messing it up even more.

Buffy smiled. He really was just too damn hot. Tall, dark and drop-dead gorgeous. She batted her eyelashes at him flirtatiously. He shrugged and stood up. 

"What the hell. Want to go make out in a broom closet?" He asked, standing abruptly and surveying her with a sexy grin.

"Ew! No." then she pouted seductively, stretching her limbs. "What about the astronomy tower? I love a good view."

Harry shrugged. "Works for me, Buff."

Buffy grinned and flicked her blonde hair, standing. She grabbed his arm.

"Lead the way." 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Master prowled around the City Hall. Everything was going so perfectly. He walked past a dark vampire and nodded to him.

"You're doing a wonderful job, Mr Trick," he said in a calculating voice. "Well done. You shall be rewarded."

The dark vampire nodded. "Thank you, Mr Big Kahuna. Always a pleasure, as you know."

The Master smiled, baring his fangs. That one was young, but he had style. He got the job done, and was very efficient. Still, he wasn't part of the family. Trick was more interested in being paid and looking good than inflicting pain. He just wasn't ambitious.

The Master moved on. "Dick!" he called out heartily. A tall man in a suit approached, holding a handkerchief to his mouth.

"Joe!" he called out, and chuckled at his own joke. "Just joking, Mr Master," he giggled like a child. The Master smiled and waved an imperious hand that bade him to walk alongside the ancient vampire.

"I am very pleased that I could use this facility for my purposes."

The man shrugged. "Advantage of being the Mayor of Sunnydale," he said lightly. "I'm just proud to have such an entrepreneurial man like yourself in my town. Although, I have to say, I'm not all that pleased with the hygiene situation. I mean, the things you put in this potion! Rats' eyes, spleen of toads…" he shuddered.

The Master's black eyes gleamed. "Still afraid of germs, are you, Wilkins? Just like I remember you back in the 1860's."

The Mayor laughed again, offering the vampire a small lolly that he just stared at. "Mint? Gosh, time does fly. We really do need to catch up some more, don't we? Fancy a round of golf once this is done? Well, this and my Ascension, that is. But that could take quite a while."

The Ancient vampire grinned, baring his fangs in anticipation. "After I get my girls back…then the rest of my family."

The Mayor was going to respond when he was interrupted by a shout. Both the vampire and the Mayor turned around quickly to see purple smoke billowing out of two twin cauldrons that were sitting up on the stage of the City Hall. The potions were bubbling ominously, and were emitting a low, rumbling sound.

The Master surged forward to the cauldrons and waited. All the candles which were lighting the Hall suddenly extinguished. 

After a few seconds, there was a sudden scream - piercing scream that was ripped from a throat in agony. It was a female voice that was as shrill as it was loud and long. The next second, some mad shrieking and laughing joined the voice. 

In an explosion of purple light, the cauldrons were ripped apart. Shrapnel went flying everywhere. Floating above the stage were two figures. Female figures. 

They dropped to the ground and ran to the Master. He threw back his head and laughed evilly, flinging his arms wide. The two figures jumped into his embrace. 

"Master!" both voices sounded joyfully.

The Vampire laughed. "My girls," he rasped. "How good it is to see you again."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Everyone else cleared out of the Hall, leaving the three vampires alone. Darla and Drusilla were wearing what they had been in the portraits. Darla was still wearing her purple velvet and black pearls, with her hair in the strawberry blonde French style it had been. Very much like Marie Antoinette, but with less powder and much darker clothes. Drusilla was looking like Lillith in her blood red silk dress and bonnet, which was a bit more modern. The Master quizzed Darla on what she remembered, while Drusilla had gone off looking for a "dolly" to play with.

Darla bit her lip in thought. "I remember the Harvest, and the last time I was alive and everything," she said haltingly. "I remember being staked. But I also remember being in my picture at Hogwarts, and the conversations I had with Buffy."

There was a pause. "The Slayer?"

Darla blinked. "You didn't know about her?" The Master shook his head. Darla smiled. 

"I have a lot to tell you. A while after you and I died, it was the slayer's birthday. She spent the night with Angel and…"

She broke off, looking pissed. The Master looked a bit miffed by this too, but leant forward. "…and?" he prodded.

"And- " Darla smiled and leaned in conspiratorially, a smile creeping across her pale face. "- he lost his soul."

The Master blinked. His lips curled upwards again into a sick, twisted grin. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. 

"Oh, I wish I had been there," he sighed. "That boy was always filled with so much hate and anger. He was cruel. He was vicious."

Darla bit her lip in exhilaration. "He was a killing machine. A monster," She moaned, glowing.

The Master opened his eyes. "He was the only vampire I knew who took such pains when he killed. Other vampires just kill for food, while he killed for pleasure. He made murder and mutilation and torture an art form. I miss him."

After a pause, Darla continued. "Dru and Spike were in town at the time, and the three of them made Buffy's life a living hell. Then, Angelus tried to summon Acathla. Long story short, he succeeded. The slayer staked Spike and Dru and then sent Angelus to hell. That's where he is now."

There was silence. The Master tilted his head to the side, and stroked his chin with his mutilated hands, his talons clicking against his fangs. 

He smiled. "Yes. After I get Liam and William back, we'll be a full family again," he murmured softly. Then, he turned his attention back to his favourite daughter. "So, how did the slayer get to Hogwarts?"

Darla licked her lips. "Well, you know how you killed her all those months ago?" the Master nodded. "Well, you activated the next slayer. A Jamaican girl called Kendra. Before Buffy staked her, Dru killed the second slayer and - "

" – Drusilla killed a slayer? Good girl," the Master nodded proudly.

" – and everyone thought it was Buffy. So she was sent to Hogwarts on the Council's orders for rehabilitation. They didn't know she was a witch as well until she got there. But now, she seems somewhat…angry. Mutinous. She's messed up and confused. She also had a dream about your resurrection, but it didn't affect her the way I would have guessed, given your history. She seemed rather hardened, emotionally." 

The Master looked pleased. "So she didn't really seem…upset that I was back?" he asked delightedly.

"No, not really. Just shocked. And she didn't seem too eager in fighting you again," Darla said, recounting their conversation. "Her words were, 'what has the side of good done for me lately?' I think…" Darla stopped, and leaned forward. 

"Well, you know she's a witch/slayer, don't you?"

The Master began to smile. "Yes. This is a wonderful discovery about our Buffy, isn't it?" he mused. 

"Well…she might be…following our footsteps. Becoming rebellious."

The Master sucked in an unneeded breath. "I find it hard to believe," he said after a while. "But either way, I think you and Drusilla should go back and…visit her. God knows she needs friends."

Darla smiled, and her eyes began to gleam. "Really? I can go back to Hogwarts?"

The Master smiled. "You could enrol again, princess. Go to classes. Have fun with Drusilla and Buffy. Do girl things."

Darla giggled. "Back to school."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Outside the hall, the brunette girl was fighting vamps. One, two, three she staked. Four, five, six got away. Feeling frustrated, she readjusted her tight, black leather pants and pulled the strap of her shiny maroon top back onto her shoulder. She let out a curse when she saw the deep cut on her upper arm that had slashed her new jacket to pieces.

I'll have to see the G-man, she thought to herself. Could need stitches. Giles'll fix me up.

Faith reached into her pocket and fished around for a while. The dark lipstick and new eyeliner she had stolen at the Sunnydale Mall were still there, but the tiny bottle of perfume was smashed and was leaking through her jacket.

She began to slink back to the Sunnydale High library where Giles was, but paused and turned down a different street. 

I reek like a hooker, she thought humourlessly. Guys at the Fishtank would like it. With that, she changed her plan. Quick trip to the pub, then back so she could get patched up. She'd be right in the morning. 

Swaggering along, Faith was looking forward to some hot and greasy fries with chilli from the pub when she heard some footsteps behind her. Faith didn't react, but kept on walking, her senses alert, pretending she hadn't noticed anything.

Faith's mind clicked into slayer-mode. Must be those three vamps I missed, she thought. Just as well. Wouldn't be good to let them go free.

She slowed her pace and looked around herself. Then she stopped altogether and waited for the vampires to approach her. She turned to face them. 

"Hey boys," she said in a husky voice. "Looking for a party? Cuz you just found one."

With that, she whipped around in a roundhouse kick, her leather combat boots catching the first vamp under the chin. He was muscly, and with a Sunnydale University football jersey on. The vamp grunted and was kicked aside.

Faith jumped two feet backwards to avoid the swipe that the second had for her. The blow missed her, but Faith reached out quickly and grabbed the offending hand. She twisted it savagely, and elicited a howl from the owner of said hand, a swarthy man in a basketball singlet. She pulled the arm towards her, and bashed her skull against the basketballer's. Slightly dizzy, she took a step back and pulled her arm back to punch. She started to rain blows down on the vampire's face and torso, and so missed the figure coming behind her.

Faith cried out as a thin but strong plank of wood caught her square in the face. She stumbled back a few feet, and tripped over a rubbish bin that was lying in the street. She fell to her knees, and cast about for a weapon, her hands connected with a stake, and she quickly grabbed it up. A second later, Faith received another blow to the face from the plank of wood. Eyes blurring, the dark haired slayer blinked to clear her vision and stabbed downwards viciously at the prone body of the second vampire, the one in the basketball singlet, which was still recovering on the ground after her last onslaught. She was a bit relieved to hear the splinter, and the rush of the vampire turning to dust.

With her vision clearing up, Faith lashed out at the third vampire, and growled in frustration when the first one came back up for more. She wrenched the plank out of Number Three's hand and whacked him soundly in the face, and he dropped to the ground. 

Faith quickly turned to Number One and, after kicking him in the stomach and exchanging a few more blows, she elbowed him under the chin and pushed him flush against a wall in the alley, where she rammed the stake home into his unbeating heart.

With a satisfying crunch, the stake penetrated the heart and the vamp disintegrated, leaving dust on the air. Faith whipped around for vamp Number Three, and swore loudly, stamping her foot angrily.

The plank-wielding vamp was gone. She swore some more and began to stalk around the area. Then, she saw a figure running down a perpendicular alley.

She glared hard at the retreating back and ran after him. She raced past the bins and the junk littering the alleyway, avoiding tripping over. As she reached the alley where she had seen him, she found she couldn't see too well. Light was not very plentiful, and the whole place as one big shadow.

Senses alert, Faith looked around. She saw some movement out of the corner of her eye. With a victorious yell, Faith caught the figure, slammed him up against the wall and drove the stake home into his unbeating heart.

Or so she thought.

Faith knelt by the figure. Something was wrong. She knew that from the moment the stake had entered his chest cavity. It didn't just thud like normally, it…it was firmer than usual.

And his chest didn't turn to dust and disappear. It began to ooze thick, dark red blood.

Faith froze. Her heart stopped.

The vampire looked at her, shocked. His body was shaking slightly, and blood was beginning to trickle out of the corners of his mouth.

Faith's eyes grew wide. She wrenched the stake out, and jumped away, shaking her head violently. "No," she whispered. "I…I…d-d-didn't kn-know," she stammered, and swallowed.

The man was not a vampire. He was human. A dying human. The hole in his white business shirt was ragged, and covered with blood. The man's eyes were wide and shocked, and he seemed frozen - apart from the twitches as he died. His wide eyes began to cloud over. The head slumped onto his shoulder. He grew still.

Faith began to hyperventilate. "I…I…" she stammered. She put her hands to her temples, shaking her head. 

"I didn't know," she pleaded with the body, panicking. "I'm…I - "

But she was cut short by some sirens sounding in the distance. She just stood there, shaking her head in fierce denial.

Screaming. Crying. Shrieking, pleading. None of it helped. He was dead. He wouldn't come back. Faith fell to her knees.

No. I didn't do it. But she did. She was looking at the body she had killed. She swallowed, her gaze fixed on the body. 

She had killed him. She broke down completely at that realisation. It was all her handiwork. 

Shrieking and screaming and crying, Faith was physically dragged away from the corpse by the police officers, talking gibberish the whole way. She wouldn't go quietly. The whole neighbourhood heard her and rushed to see. Passing through was Giles, Xander, Willow, Oz and Cordelia. They had heard about the ruckus on their usual patrol and had come to have a look. 

Faith laughed in their faces, crying at the same time. She looked crazed, like she had totally lost it. The Watcher looked shocked and appalled and…sad. He picked up a mobile he had acquired from Cordelia, and called the private number of the Council.

Beyond the screaming and the confusion, one figure watched quietly. Her feline eyes raked the whole scene, taking in everything.

She slipped behind a wall so that she was hidden from view. She wrapped her arms around herself with rapture and sighed contentedly.

"Dolly," she whispered. She smoothed her red dress.

"Mummy likes her new dolly, doesn't she, Miss Edith?"

Drusilla looked around at the porcelain doll she had dropped. The vampiress locked her gaze onto the doll and her eyes seemed to almost glow. Almost like magic.

Her eyes turned golden and she looked more intently at the doll on the cold, damp ground of the alley. Miss Edith suddenly sat up. As if controlled by invisible strings, the doll seemed to stand and walk over to Drusilla, with open arms.

Dru smiled indulgently. The doll floated off the ground and into Drusilla's hand.

The vampiress grinned wickedly. "See?" she scolded the doll.

"Mummy said that she would do magic if you were good."

&*&*&

A/N

ominous music heeheehee who said witches need wands? Haven't you learnt anything from Willow? That's all I'm saying, and it's a HUGE insight into further chappies. People, thank you so VERY much for the reviews once again. Special thanks to that Raptor person, who is very cool and ultra supportive. Aaaaw, Luv ya! Everyone please tell me what you think about this, and if you have any questions, I will try to answer them without telling you the whole plot. Hey, to answer questions about the pairings, I think enough is said already. Who else loves the mayor? Huh. This was my first fight sequence. Yikes. How'd it flow?

Now, please, I am aiming for as many reviews as I can. Keep them coming, and I'll continue with the updates so ReViEw~~~~~~ 


	7. Watchers and Lunacy

&*&*&

A/N wheeeeee! Reviews!!! Err, there is a BIT of fluff here. But it's not clouds-sugar-candy-fluffy-bunnies type fluff, it's kinda dark and evil-y and passionate **without** being about the s-e-x. I don't write smut, you see. : ) sorry all the pervs out there, but EW go read another fic! This one's relatively clean. Please review!

&*&*&

Quentin Travers sat in his chair. He was at the head of a large, glossy oak table at the Watcher's Council Headquarters in London. The old man sighed deeply and reached for the crystal shot glass that held his scotch. Sipping the amber liquid reflectively, and leaned back and rubbed a hand over his weathered face. 

"Well, gentlemen, I don't think we're going to be needed for a while," he said tiredly. 

Lord Roberts shook his grey head, puffing on a cigar. "A slayer gone bad. I don't think there's ever been a record of this before."

Rupert Giles frowned and leaned forward, bringing his features into the light of the lamps. The light illuminated wrinkles on his face that had definitely not been there last time he had been in London. But that was a different time. That was before his slayer went wrong.

It had certainly affected him. He was beginning to look older, tireder. Presently, he cleared his throat. He took off his glasses and polished them on his handkerchief.

"Well, now, that's not true. There have been two."

Wesley Wyndam-Price nodded. "In the 1600s, and more recently in the 1860s. I don't remember who they were, though."

Giles looked downcast. "They were both witch/slayers, as I recall. Turned afterwards," he said gruffly.

Wesley pursed his lips. "Do you still think it was…appropriate to send the current Slayers to that school for witchcraft? I mean, it's not as though they are witches as well, but still."

Giles glanced up. His gaze was penetrating. The man was quite hardened these days, and brooked no argument. "I trust Dumbledore. The Council is not equipped to deal with two rogue Slayers. They will be controlled and rehabilitated in that school. I am thankful, however, that they are not witches."

Travers leaned back in his chair, and took another sip of scotch. "Quite. The results of another witch/slayer would be quite catastrophic. If either Miss Summers or Miss Morgan were a witch, I'm sure we would have lost them for good by now."

Next to him, Roger Zabuto looked down, picking up his tea. "Like I lost my Kendra," he said quietly. "She was my slayer, but now she's gone for good. At least Giles and Wyndam-Price may have their slayers back one-day. I will never see mine again."

There was a brief silence to honour the poor girl killed by her sister-slayer, that Summers girl. 

Wesley bowed his head. "Consequently, the Sunnydale authorities have begun an inquest as to what happened. The police had Faith, but were quite caught off guard when Smith and Weatherby arrested her on behalf of the Council, and have started a search for all three. They stopped after the funeral. Apparently, Mr Allan Finch didn't have many people there, only the Mayor bothered to turn up. The Mayor halted the investigation for some reason."

Lord Anthony sat across the table, and frowned, tapping an elegant finger on the polished oak tabletop. Now, why would they be so hard to rehabilitate if they are witches as well? Wouldn't that be an added advantage to the battle against the dark, a slayer being a witch?"

Sir James had been quiet up until now, where he shook his head vehemently. "Gods, man, no. That is far too much power for any individual to have. Slayer abilities in the first place are cloaked in darkness. That is where the power stems from: evil. For a slayer to practice witchcraft as well…" he faltered, and took a breath in contemplation before continuing.

"Let me just say that the occult is difficult to understand and control at the best of times. To have two powers at once would be a cocktail of metaphysical energy. To put it bluntly, the arcane magicks together are unstable. The two girls in the past who were both witches and slayers both turned evil. That's two out of two."

Giles drained his cup of tea. "I think I should call Smith and Weatherby, see how they're handling Faith," he mused to himself, and strolled out of the room.

Lady Wydeville, the only woman Watcher in the Council meeting, nodded at his departing back absently with her gaze focussed on Sir James. "Ah yes. I think I remember. Do you recall the names of those two girls?"

Sir James puffed on a cigar in thought. "Drusilla Edith and Darla de Montfort," he said haltingly. "I'm not quite sure. It's been a few years since I read their Watchers' diaries, though I based a thesis it."

Lord Roberts' eyes widened. "Of course! I'd clean forgotten. Drusilla and Darla, they were half of the Scourge of Europe."

Silence fell over the table at his exclamation. Uneasiness was written on everyone's face. Several pairs of eyes swivelled in the direction of the door, where Giles had just gone. 

No one was eager to mention the Scourge after what they had done to Giles. Apparently, Angelus had murdered the woman he loved, and tortured him for hours. Giles just wasn't the man he used to be anymore. He was much more…bitter, and cold. When Travers had seen him again, after his second slayer went bad, he thought Ripper had returned. The members of the Council had all gone to the pub when Giles told them that all four master vampires had finally been slain.

Lady Wydeville bit her lip, putting down her teacup with a _chink_. "Well, I was always a bit concerned about Miss Morgan. She always seemed…loose. Wesley, how was she when she was taken by the Retrieval Team? Remorseful? Do you think we are going to have any luck getting her back, fighting?"

Wesley swallowed, and took a deep breath before answering. "She seemed quite irrational. Screaming and shrieking, raving all the while."

Lady Wydeville persisted. "But did she seem repentant? Did she say she was sorry, or it was a mistake?"

Wesley looked down. Slowly, he shook his head. "She…sh-she laughed."

This was greeted by another silence that lasted a few seconds before several voices spoke.

"But…laughed? Surely she…"

"This is no joking matter. How could she?"

"Perhaps she was crying."

"Maybe she was - "

They were all cut off by Travers, who banged his fist on the tabletop. "Order! Order!" he barked over the voices. Then, he turned to Wesley. "Surely there is some explanation. Do you think Faith did it on purpose?" he prodded, his gaze steely.

Wesley shrugged helplessly as Giles entered the room again. The older Watcher cleared his throat.

"Well," Giles began haltingly. "She actually seemed quite unaware of what was happening. Talking nonsense the whole time, she was psychotic."

There was a gasp at his words from somewhere along the table. Lord Anthony puffed furiously on his cigar. "Psychotic?" he echoed. "As in…unaware of what she did? Could do it again?"

Giles shook his head, and starting polishing his glasses again. "I really can't say."

Sir James's booming voice reached him. "Damnit, man! Is she a threat? Is she dangerous or not?"

Giles sighed. "She's not a witch. That means there must be hope."  


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

A week had elapsed since Harry and Buffy had gone off to the astronomy tower to make out, and already they were revered around Hogwarts as the new couple.

At first, there had been a lot of controversy. Ron Weasley, Harry's best friend, was enraged that he was going off with a Slytherin. Hermione wasn't even speaking to him any more. When she had walked in on them kissing in an empty classroom one day, she just went really quiet. She had asked to talk to Harry privately. Buffy had still heard the conversation, though, and had watched from behind a doorframe.

"You've really changed, you know?" Hermione had said. "You used to be this really cute, shy guy. A friend to everyone, and adored by all. Now, you're just so…different."

"How?" was his sharp reply. 

"Well…you dress differently, for one thing. I mean, the - "

"I'm sorry if my wardrobe has upset you," he said amusedly.

"And," the girl floundered for words. "You talk differently, and you just don't seem to care about anything any more."

"Oh I do, do I?"

"Yes! You act like you're…better than everyone else. Like you're always analysing us, and you're amused by everything we say. It's patronising. You're just so contemptuous. Why the change, Harry? Is it…is it me?" 

Buffy had strained to hear what happened next. Harry sighed, sounding disappointed. "Look, Hermione, I'm surprised. You used to be so bright, but you're just not getting it."

Hermione had stood there, dumbfounded for a few moments. Her eyes started to slowly fill up with tears. "But…y-you're my b-best friend, I…"

"Shh, shh, it's okay," he had said sympathetically, "We all make mistakes. But next time, I hope you'll know better."

Hermione frowned. "Mistake? I…"

Harry smirked sarcastically. "Go find a book, ducks. It'll help with the pain." With that, he had turned around abruptly, walked towards the door, grabbed Buffy and kissed her passionately right in front of the brunette. She had run off in tears.

That was six days ago now. Buffy had discovered that Harry was a classic romantic, with an ardent sense of fun. Dark, expensive, extravagant. All deliciously fun. He was the type of guy that most girls dreamt about – suave, yet (as the British say) 'roguish'; passionate, yet cryptic. Two days ago had been the first Hogsmeade trip, and he had taken her to a romantic restaurant, and given her a single red rose. 

Buffy was delighted when he gave them to her. He had smirked and woven the rose into her hairstyle for the night, saying that it was nothing compared to her beauty. Harry was always lavishing her with gifts and attention. He made her feel…wanted. Okay, adored.

Presently, Buffy grinned against Harry's lips, and slowly pulled away from his kiss. 

"Okay," she said, "Where are you taking me?"

Buffy almost _heard_ the smirk. "I can't tell you, Buff, it's a surprise."

She laughed. "Come on, please?" her fingers inched towards the red silk blindfold obscuring her vision. Not that she really wanted to take it off. Being unable to see made her rely entirely on Harry. It made her feel vulnerable, and he obviously knew that as well. He was taking full advantage of the situation, which he had planned himself, and was guiding her through the castle.

Quickly, Buffy felt Harry reach over and clasp her hand to prevent her from undoing the blindfold. "No, no. Naughty. Be a good girl, love, or you won't get your present," he scolded gently. He brought her hand to his lips and started to kiss her fingertips, one hand holding hers to his lips, his other arm tightly wrapped about her trim waist.

Buffy bit her lip and pouted like a little girl. "I'll be good. I promise to eat my vegetables," she grumbled. 

Harry chuckled triumphantly and swept her up into his arms, kissing her passionately. He swung her around, eliciting squeals from his girl. He put her back on her feet and kissed her forehead. "Good. We're here," he said in that deep voice that kept Buffy awake at night.

She breathed in and leaned back against his muscular chest. She put an arm behind her head and cupped his cheek. "Do I get to see yet?" she asked.

He chuckled and untied the red silk blindfold. Buffy felt the smooth, sensual material slide over her face and gasped when she opened her eyes. 

An captivating scene lay before her. She was standing in the doorway of a large room. On the floor were training mats, and gloves and punching bags. What enchanted her was the weapons.

Harry had taken Buffy to a room full of weaponry! Every wall was adorned with all types of weaponry. One wall specialised in archery: there were bows, longbows, crossbows, and arrows of all types. The second wall was all about blades. Buffy walked closer and examined the numerous daggers, knives, scythes and swords; the metal blades were all gleaming as the light from the torches and candles hit them. The next wall was a display of maces and hammers and clubs (including the infamous spiked ball and chain club, the Swiss Morningstar), and the fourth wall was…weird. Buffy had to admit that despite her expansive knowledge of weaponry, she had no idea what that wall held. 

"Oh, _Harry_," she gushed. She felt him approach from behind and wrap his arms around her waist. He dropped a kiss onto her shoulder. 

"Does my slayer like it?" he teased.

She closed her eyes. She bit her lip in rapture and turned around. She rose up onto her toes to reach her much taller boyfriend, giving Harry a passionate kiss. "I love it!" she exclaimed. She kissed him again. "This is so…thoughtful. You must have spent a while planning this," she accused, delighted.

He smiled down at her. "That's not all I planned," he said cryptically.   


Buffy's brow furrowed. "What else, then?" she questioned. "'Cuz I gotta say, you can't get much better than this."

Harry smirked. "Oh, really? I thought you should be able to…utilise this room as best you could, so I arranged this." He took her arm and pushed her outside again. 

Buffy pulled a face. "And why is my being outside gonna help me 'utilise'?" she asked confused.

He grinned and pulled out his wand. He pointed at the doorframe and muttered an incantation. The door glowed purple. Then, he put the wand back in his robes and gestured for her to enter.

She shrugged and walked through the door into the weaponry room again. as she passed the doorframe, she paused. 

There was something running through her. It felt like electricity, without the unpleasant crispiness of an electric shock. No, it was…energy. Pure energy was running all through her body, from head to toes. She shuddered. It was invigorating, powerful, energising. She felt her self being gently lifted off the ground, and laughed aloud. This feeling was wonderful!

With a jolt, it stopped. She dropped back to the floor inside the room. But part of that feeling remained. Buffy stood and flexed her muscles. She felt stronger, faster, like she had much more energy. She grinned. "Did you just do what do what I think you just did?" she asked Harry, who was watching.

"Restored your slayer power? Yes, actually. I did." He said with no small trace of arrogance. Buffy, unable to contain her delight, whooped loudly and gave him a huge kiss.

He pulled away and held her at arms' length, examining her. "Funny," he said. "You don't look very powerful. You're still kind of…small," he said, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

Buffy gave a smirk. "Oh, really," she commented dryly. "Wanna try me?" Harry grinned

"Damn straight."

In a whirl, Buffy pushed him away and pulled off three consecutive backflips, arriving at the wall full of knives. She grabbed two daggers and flung them with deadly accuracy at Harry's heart. She watched with bated breath as they soared through the air.

That'll show him how powerful I am, she thought excitedly. But then, as if in slow motion, she noticed that he wasn't moving. He wasn't even trying to duck them. She felt a sick feeling build in her stomach. No…he was going to get hit. A thousand thoughts were running through Buffy's mind in a fraction of a second. Her heart contracted. Not again. Not again. She didn't want to kill another person she cared for. Not that she had killed Kendra in the first place. No, no, no, _no, NO!_

Buffy felt her heart stop as the blades reached Harry's chest. Barely blinking, Harry's arm whipped out of nowhere and grabbed both daggers by their points mere inches from his heart.

Buffy gaped. "Holy…crap…" she whispered. Then, she got louder. "God, Harry! I thought that was going to hit you! You had me so worried."

She ran over to him and gave him a bone-crushing hug, which she was quite capable of, now that she had her slayer powers back. "How did you learn how to fight?" she asked, her face buried in his robes.

Harry laughed and began to stroke her hair. "Had you worried, did I?" he teased. "I did a lot of martial arts when I was with my muggle family." Buffy noticed that he seemed quite disgusted when he was talking about his family, but she let it go.

"Harry, thank you so much. I love you," she said.

He produced another rose for her. This one was black. "I love you too, princess. You're my Black Rose," he said, before leaning down and kissing her neck.

Not just any part of her neck. He was kissing the scar left by the Master on her jugular vein. She groaned and closed her eyes. He bit down hard, and she smiled indulgently. 

Life in rehab was looking better everyday.

Half an hour later, they realised that it was time for dinner. They walked down together to the Great Hall, marvelling at the storm that seemed to have started outside. On the way, Harry was talking to Buffy about something else he had found in his translation of _Vampyr_. 

"It was talking about something called '_Memoria di Quattro,'_ which means Memorial of the Four or something. I'm confused, because there were only two witch/slayers. Weird, huh."

Buffy pulled a face. "Yeah. I don't know what they're on about."

They had just entered the Great Hall hand-in-hand when there was a huge clap of thunder, followed by a big boom. The whole school looked around wildly, before realising that the boom was coming from the large oak door of the Entrance Hall.

The school looked though the Entrance Hall at the door. Another boom, and the door creaked open. Hagrid stood at the doorway, and he looked a mess. There were cuts all over his face, and one was bleeding quite viciously. He walked in backwards, pulling something. 

The students craned their necks. Whispering broke out through the Great Hall. People were standing on their chairs to see what was happening.

Hagrid walked in a few feet, and three figures walked in after him. Two men, in black trenchcoats. Buffy froze next to Harry. She knew those men – Weatherby and Smith. Watcher Retrieval Squad.

But they seemed preoccupied with the third individual. A girl around Buffy's age, but taller. She was a brunette dressed in dark leather clothes. 

The girl was kicking and screaming and laughing loudly, inflicting pain on the giant and the two Watchers. She was raving loudly, and seemed quite the lunatic. Buffy felt the back of her neck prickle. The girl had a strange aura…familiar somehow. Certainly, she had a lot of power.

Dumbledore stood quickly and walked out to the Entrance Hall, closing the door behind him so that the student body in the Great Hall couldn't see what was happening. Buffy took Harry's arm. 

"Come on," she hissed. "Those were the bastards who took me here. We need to see what they're doing!" 

Harry nodded mutely and swung her around in the opposite direction that she was headed. She looked at him. "What are you doing? I wanna see!"

Harry shook his head and led her swiftly out of the Great hall. "If we go that way, the rest of the school will too," he corrected. "Best take this way, it's a secret passageway."

After a few moments, Buffy found herself staring at the strange girl, the Watchers, Hagrid and Dumbledore from behind a stone statue. She could hear perfectly what was happening. 

Dumbledore was talking urgently. "What happened now? What does the Council want me to do?"

Smith's cockney accent filled her ears. She hated the mere sound of his voice. "Another Slayer gone bad. This is Faith Morgan, she was Called after Kendra."

Dumbledore paused. "What did this one do?" he asked in a hard voice.

"Killed Allan Finch, a civilian. Never even met him before." There was a sudden curse as the girl – Faith – reached out and kicked him viciously in the face. Buffy nodded. Nice technique, even roundhouse kick. This slayer was a good fighter.

"Bleedin' hell. She went like this immediately afterwards." Weatherby continued. "She just started ravin' and laughin'. She's totally gone. Insane."

There was a shocked pause. Then Dumbledore answered. "I will try to help her as much as I can. May I ask, why hasn't she been subdued? Where is the tranquilliser?"

Smith swore again. "We've given here enough tranquilliser to knock out the Huns. She was responding for a while, but just recently it doesn't seem to be working. She's beating up anyone who she doesn't like. Summers was out with only two shots, but this one's been given twenty or so in the last half-hour and none have worked."

In the shadows, Buffy paused. She turned to Harry. "Umm…that spell that restored my slayer powers…did you cast it all over the school grounds?"

Harry blinked. Then a mischievous smile crept on his face. "Oops."

Buffy smiled. There was a howl as Smith was thrown across the room, and Buffy's smile turned into a malicious grin. 

"Oh, boy. Another Slayer? This is going to be interesting."

&*&*&

A/N I'm so sorry if this takes a long time to reach everyone, but my internet connection has died somehow. 


	8. Voodoo and Milk

The Slytherin common room was mostly empty, apart from three individuals. Two blonde, one brunette. Two sane, one crazy. Two slayers, one wizard. As with Buffy, Faith Morgan had been placed in Slytherin. Buffy knew that this time, the convicted girl was a real killer. Buffy was innocent; Faith was not. Presently, the dark-haired beauty was curled up on rich leather lounge in the lavish common room, like a cat. The dark furnishings and extravagant atmosphere added to her mystique: she looked very much like a cat. Her feline eyes and lashes were lined with charcoal eye shadow, as per usual. She was just sitting quietly, brooding, watching.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Pay attention, Malfoy. I already went over this."

The platinum wizard snorted. "Well, I wasn't listening. Again." he commanded.

"She's a slayer. She's a killer. Did I mention that she's insane?"

His brow furrowed and he slouched, folding his arms over his chest. "Possibly, I noticed myself," he drawled sarcastically.

The corners of Buffy's lips quirked upwards wryly. "Okay, true. So you know that she really needs to be watched at all times."

"Yes…"

"And I can't help her _all_ the time. I need some alone time, and you should help me."

"Not getting your point, Summers." Malfoy said flatly.

"I need you to take out Faith for the day next Saturday. All day, please."

Malfoy stopped. He pulled a face. "Aw, but that's the Hogsmeade trip!"

Buffy gave a smile. "Which I am attending with Harry for the day."

Malfoy closed his eyes. "Once again, Potter wrecks my day." He got up in a sweep of black robes and began to walk away.

Buffy pulled a face of dismay and jumped up after him. "Please, Malfoy?" she implored. "You're Head Boy, it should be your responsibility!"

He turned around. "Come off it," he said scornfully. "You're her – ah, sister slayer or whatever it is. You take her."

Buffy wrinkled her nose and pulled him back down onto a lounge with her. "Third wheel much?" she questioned. "It's a date, I don't want her there! Totally wrecks the whole guy-girl equation."

Malfoy pulled his arm out of her grip, which didn't happen quite so easily now as it would have done before; her slayer powers had not gone unnoticed. "Yeah. I could have plans, ducks," he said reproachfully

"Oh, but - " she stopped, and her eyes wandered to Faith.

Faith was looking at them with an intense stare, and had just stood. Buffy felt a bit put off – just a bit. A lot of the other students in the school had, in the last few days, proven to be quite terrified of Faith indeed. It was hilarious to see the first-years run in terror whenever the brunette beauty approached them in the halls, even just in passing. She was attractive, to be sure.

Faith had curves that most girls could only dream of. Buffy herself was almost jealous of her height and shape. But, then, Buffy had the added attraction of sanity. A couple of the older boys at Hogwarts had found her enthralling, before they too ran off in fear. Buffy had noticed only yesterday that Neville Longbottom, the idiot Gryffindor, had been staring at her during lunch. Admiring her, watching her. Faith had noticed too, but her reaction was to turn suddenly, stare at the poor boy and laugh loudly in his face. Needless to say, he had scarpered like all the others. Except most of the others didn't run headlong into Snape, spilling ink all over him.

The newest convicted murderess looked very out of place in her Hogwarts uniform. Buffy reflected that she probably did, too. Both the slayers, killers, were dressed as Catholic Schoolgirls under their outer robes. It was a contradiction, and the irony was not lost upon Buffy. She liked the look however; liked the misconception she was sure she was creating.

She snapped back to reality when Faith slinked past her with that swagger that she always had. The brunette slayer came to a stop next to Malfoy, leant down, and put the centre of her palm on his chest. He looked up at her, confused. In a fluid movement, Faith pushed him back into the sofa and began to crawl forward onto his lap. She didn't look like she wanted a cuddle and a bedtime story, though. She looked like a predator.

"Poor little lost Faith. You don't want me. No one wants me except the stars," she said sadly in her husky voice. Buffy raised an eyebrow at the blonde man.

Malfoy caught Buffy's eye, and Buffy almost laughed at his expression. It was an evil grin, naughty and wicked. Obviously, Malfoy was in deep approval to what Faith was doing. Faith was tracing little shapes on his chest with her finger, and had wrapped one of his arms around her waist. She was whispering in his ear. The whole scene was looking very intimate.

"Well, maybe I just need to get to know you better, love," Malfoy murmured to Faith.

Buffy was about to say something, then stopped and blushed. She stood quickly. There was no way she wanted to be present during this. "Or, you know…you could take _her_ on a date to Hogsmeade…" she left the last sentence hanging, and skipped out of the room with a giggle. 

Game, set and match. One whole day with Harry, coming right up.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two nights later, the silvery moon was high in the sky. This, however, was a night of little romance for the two couples; Harry and Buffy; and Malfoy and Faith. Granger and Weasley were there, too – involved in a fight. The Slytherins plus Harry were in there for provoking a fight. The six seventh-years were in detention with Professor McGonnagal _and_ Professor Snape. Double the crime: double the punishment. Both professors were involved because Harry, Weasley and Granger were in Gryffindor, while the others were from Slytherin. 

Earlier that day, they had all been in Defence Against the Dark Arts when Harry, Buffy, Faith and Malfoy had executed a little…jest. A little prank, for the simple aim of fun. Professor Wilkins was boring them, as per usual. He had moved on from Ascensions to teaching them about magicks inside a person, and how to achieve more. Basically, it was about possession, voodoo and self-preservation. The whole class had to read _The Picture of Dorian Gray. _Buffy had thought back in Sunnydale, when her freshman English class had to read the book, that the author was a muggle: she soon discovered that the story was true, and that Oscar Wilde, the author of the book was a very powerful dark Wiccan warlock. Buffy, being the non-studious type, was bored to tears. Wilkins wasn't a boring teacher at all, but Buffy just didn't have the patience. 

That day, they (the Slytherin and Gryffindor seventh-years) had a split double period, so they went to lunch before coming back to DADA class again. During lunch, the four had conspired.

Buffy had retrieved a bundle of clothes from the house elves. They were boys' robes, and had the name _'Bill Weasley'_ scrawled on the tag. Hand-me-downs, now used by that idiot Ron. Harry had taken the robes and transfigured it into an image of a cat. Not just any cat. The bundle of robes now had long, ginger hair with stripes, a pushed in face and a red collar with a gold plaque on it that read 'Crookshanks'.

Obviously, he hadn't actually turned it into a cat: it just looked like one – like a very realistic stuffed toy. Malfoy performed a charm on it so that the bundle of fur moved, and simulated the actions and behaviour of Hermione's cat exactly.

But, still, it was not right. It appeared like the cat, and it moved like a cat, but it didn't have the…spirit, the soul of a cat. If they looked into its eyes, they were just blank, expressionless. Malfoy shrugged.

"It's a great plan, but I don't think the model looks like Granger's cat. It just doesn't seem alive enough."

Harry paused. "There's gotta be something we can do," he said easily. "This is too good an opportunity to miss out on."

Buffy wasn't listening. She was staring at Faith. The brunette was swaying gently, staring at the cat placidly with a penetrating gaze. Not Dumbledore penetrate-y, but more…

Insane. Much, much more insane. There were many people who said that Professor Dumbledore walked the line between genius and insanity. Those people had not experienced the insanity of Faith. If they had, they would not be so quick to label _him_ as crazy in comparison. Presently, Faith's dark glossy lips curled upwards into a somewhat secretive smile. She knelt down.

"Here, kitty kitty kitty. Come to Mummy," she murmured, holding forth her right hand palm facing up. The cat approached like a robot. The glassy yellow orbs looked up into Faith's heavily lined dark brown eyes and stopped, frozen. The model of the cat stood transfixed before Faith. In an instant, Faith's other hand came whipping out of nowhere and seized the cat by the scruff of the neck. The cat made no objection. 

She raised the cat up to eye level and stared into the yellow eyes. _"Animate"_ she whispered with her eyes still locked on the cat's. The cat's yellow eyes brightly sparkled for a second, then dimmed once more. Still, eye contact was not broken.

There was a pause. Harry frowned thoughtfully. "Hypnosis? That's kind of handy." He said it without ceremony, a statement.

Faith smiled absently and slid sleekly into Malfoy's arms. "Kitty is more real now," she said. "Can we continue?" her tone was laced with innocent inflection, and she gazed imploringly into the silver eyes of her boyfriend. 

He grinned down at her wolfishly. "Absolutely."

As one, they approached the DADA classroom. Buffy bit her glossy lips in anticipation. "So," she said in a low voice, her face betraying nothing, "who wants to do the honours?"

There was a short pause, which Harry quickly filled. "I'll do it," he said easily. "It will hurt more if they ever find out it was me." He started to laugh scornfully. "This'll be fun. My bad deed for the day."

Buffy looked up at Harry. His emerald eyes were sparkling. She'd seen pictures of him when he was young. His eyes used to look like green fields, innocent and pure and foolish. The eyes are the window to the soul, and Harry's soul was a picture of youth and naivety. 

They were not any more. Buffy looked closer, and Harry turned his attention to her when her felt her gaze. His eyes were now a deeper emerald, richer, finer. They were deeper, and spoke of troubling times. A past of pain and unhappiness spread upon Harry's face. Losing people, being brought up in a hateful environment. All these were factors which shaped a person. Harry's person had been altered. His soul was…not corrupted. No. Sure, that was what the Gryffindor losers said. They muttered about the dark-haired boy. It was plain to see that he was not a boy any more. He had…

Buffy brightened as Harry kissed her deeply. Yes, she thought absently. He had ascended. Not to a demon, that was just being silly. He had ascended into a man, and a strong one at that. Harry Potter was a bloody powerful sorcerer, and he was just seventeen. His green eyes sparkled with malevolence and malice. He was truly wicked.

Harry, Faith, Buffy and Malfoy stepped into the DADA classroom. Faith reached out behind her and made a beckoning movement with her hand. Inconspicuously, of course, but Buffy noticed it nevertheless. 

The ginger cat prowled into the classroom amid the feet of the rest of the students. Crookshanks crawled into a corner and waited until Professor Wilkins came in. He walked with a bounce in his step, grinning at the class. 

"Welcome back, kiddies. I have to say, I'm very glad to be back after that absence last week. Business out of town. I forgot to ask, did your substitute teacher remember to offer you milk?"

Silence met his question. Lavender Brown answered. "Um, no. And sir, what's with the milk anyway?" she looked at him weirdly.

Wilkins tutted. "Milk is important for growing boys and girls. I want you teens to remember, it's not 'uncool' to have healthy, strong bones and teeth." He clapped his hands and a tall glass of chilled milk appeared at each desk. Lavender stared at him, unnerved. 

Faith grinned and downed her milk. Buffy watched, and followed the brunette's example. Wilkins was a champ. It wasn't his fault that the subject he taught was boring. "So, Professor," Buffy asked, "what did you do last week that was so urgent?"

He looked down at her. There were merry dimples in his cheeks as he smiled. "Old friend came back. I was in a little town in the States. I'm the Mayor there. Runs in the family." Buffy tuned out. Politics sucked. Back in Sunnydale, Buffy had some really bad prejudices against her local government. The police…the politics…it was all of the bad. 

By now, the rest of the class was seated. Wilkins clapped his hands again. "Okay, girls and boys," he said jovially, "where were we? Ah, yes. Voodoo."

At that word there was a crack of green energy from the back of the classroom, from the corner that Crookshanks was hiding in. The whole class whipped around with gasps. The cat howled loudly and rose, floating to the centre of the room metres above the students' heads. With a tearing sound that made everyone sick to his or her stomach, the cat started to be ripped apart from the belly through. Hysterical screams and yells filled the air.

With an unhuman shriek, Hermione Granger rushed forward, staring up at her cat, which was now still. Split like an amoeba, it hung in the air, rotating slowly. In the background, Buffy heard someone be sick. Another someone. 

There was silence. Granger was hyperventilating. She closed her eyes and let her tears fall, and sank to the floor. Her shoulders dropped, and she cradled her head in her hands, sobbing freely. Parvati and Lavender came over to comfort her ashen faced. Ron followed, looking angry and shocked, putting an arm on her back and stroking her hair gently.

From the back of the room came a jolly chuckle. Hermione swung around to see whom it was. Professor Wilkins was leaning up against a desk, giggling like a schoolboy. 

"You kids are talented, aren't you! Excellent use of the Objective Animation curse. The image was realistic. That was quite a prank to pull on poor Miss Granger, though. Who was it?"

Hermione gaped. A _student_ had done this to her? Across the room, Buffy smiled inwardly, but outwardly looked shocked. 

Wilkins shrugged, and pointed his wand at the dissected cat, muttering a few words. The cat reformed into the cloak it had been originally. It fell to the ground with a dull _thwap_. Professor Wilkins walked over to it with a spring in his step and picked the cloak up, looking at the telltale label.

"_Bill Weasley._" He looked up sharply at the Gryffindor side of the room. Mr Weasley, you did this?"

Ron started when he heard his eldest brother's name. He froze. Hermione hissed and yanked away from him, glaring vehemently. He gaped, and shook his head silently no, trying to say it was not he, but finding himself rendered speechless. How could he be implicated for this? He was her best friend, he loved her too much to do a thing like that. No one could do a thing like that, only a murderer would be that cold-hearted.

"_You_ did this?" she whispered, looking at him wide-eyed.

Without a word, she sprang. The emotionally strung girl leapt at the tall redheaded boy, clawing wildly. She shrieked and beat at him wildly.

"No..I…He-" Ron tried desperately to hold her off, grasping both her wrists in one of his hands. Still, she cried louder and kicked out. Dean and Seamus came in then and grabbed her, pulling her away from the innocent Ron. 

Wilkins came over, wearing a frown. "There there, Miss Granger. You're making a terrible mess. Why don't you go and clean up a bit?" She nodded, unable to speak for crying. Lavender led her outside. Ron was about to follow, before looking back at his fellow classmates. Amid the shocked faces, he caught Buffy's grin. Faith's sadistic smile. Malfoy's smirk.

What made him feel sick was Harry's wink.

&*&*&

hey people

sorry I know this is a short chappie but I'm kinda caught up in my other fic right now. I promise to update! Many thanks to all my fans (by this I mean reviewers, even those who flame) ;) and to Joe G, who helped me through my difficult time. Did you know, only he and one other have guessed my plotline!! Kudos to them.

Woohoo doncha just LOVE the Mayor?? He rocks, I had to get him in more of my story so he's a teacher as well. Just another cameo for now, maybe more later ;) Harry, Harry, Harry; what happened to make you so scarily, sexily rebellious? Whatever it is, I want some!

Please review, gets me motivated!!!!! 


	9. Damnation and Icecream

&*&*& A/N hey people!! Great reviews. There is a lot of explaining for what's happened in the past in this chappie. Really fun, and stuff happens that you guys'll like. Yes, I have changed the series of events a bit from Season 3, but it needed to happen. Enjoy! &*&*&  
  
"So, B." Faith swung her legs around on the lounge in the Slytherin common room. "What's your story?"  
  
Buffy looked over at the brunette slayer with a smile. Harry had returned Faith's sanity two days before, and Buffy was really grateful for it. She and Faith had so much in common to talk about. Faith was the only other girl in the school that she could really get along with. They were both slayers. They were both witches.  
  
They were both convicted murderesses. It was nice to have a female friend she could talk with.  
  
"My story? About what?"  
  
Faith rolled her eyes, applying more dark sanguine lip gloss. The label on the little tube it was in said the shade was called 'Sinner'. "You know what I mean, girlfriend. Your story. Why are you stuck in here doing time with me?"  
  
Buffy smiled. "Why shouldn't I be?"  
  
"You just don't look like the murdering type." Faith zinged. "You're more a save the puppies, Sunday school type. Me, I was crazy. You, I just don't know."  
  
Buffy shrugged. "I was against the Master - strongest vamp ever, and I mean ever. He killed me by drowning, but Xander - you know Xander?"  
  
Faith nodded. "One of the Scoobs. Giles introduced me. Go on,"  
  
"Well, Xan brought me back with CPR. But I had died, so another Slayer was Called. Her name was Kendra."  
  
Faith nodded, looking pensive. "Kendra, huh? I think she visited the Council HQ where I was before either of us were Called. Really pretty, Jamaican, uptight do-gooder?"  
  
Buffy paused. She pulled a face. "In a nutshell, yeah. Well, I slept with this old boyfriend of mine and he turned evil, and..."  
  
Faith frowned. She rolled onto her stomach, now facing Buffy. "Yeah, that happened to me a few times as well. Most had hangovers too. I'd show 'em a thing or two, now that I know I'm a witch as well as the Chosen."  
  
"I don't think you've experienced anything like this. I mean, evil evil, in a massacre-y, apocalypse way."  
  
"Before we continue, can I just take the liberty to say that this is gonna be a long night of bitching about old boyfriends, so can we please relocate to our dorm with ice cream and chocolate?"  
  
The blonde grinned and laughed. "Girls' night in? Haven't had one of those since God knows when."  
  
"Let's go!"  
  
Both slayers exited the common room and went to the kitchen entrance. The house elves seemed very scared of the two girls, Faith in particular. One of them grabbed Buffy's hand.  
  
"You is knowing the great Harry Potter?" he squeaked. Buffy pulled a face at the grubby creature with its mismatched clothes. It was wearing a Christmas tea cosy, a purple glitter tie and some way too big suit trousers.  
  
"Yeah, why?"  
  
The house elf squealed with delight. "Oh, it is, it is! You is dating the Harry Potter! You is the girl Dobby is always making plans for!"  
  
Buffy stopped. She looked at Faith, who was watching the creature disbelievingly. "Plans? What plans?"  
  
The elf looked worried then. "Oh, good plans, miss! Plans that Harry Potter tells Dobby to make for Miss Buffy!"  
  
Buffy looked confused. She shook her head and picked up her load of food. "Um, okay thanks," she said, with a small smile, then turned to the door. Faith grinned at the other terrified elves, winked, and followed her sister slayer out the door.  
  
Once they were down the corridor heading back to the Slytherin chambers, Faith cracked up laughing. Buffy still looked confused.  
  
"C'mon, B!" Faith exclaimed. "You're just way too blonde!"  
  
Buffy scowled. "What? I don't know what that crazy elf's on about! Plans? What plans?" she said worriedly. Was Harry.plotting behind her back? She felt her stomach turn.  
  
Faith rolled her lined eyes. "B, who do you think organises every date you two have been on? Harry's got the elf in on everything. Pretty clever, too. The elf can do stuff like go to Hogsmeade for things and decorate rooms for your dates, so your boytoy doesn't get caught."  
  
Buffy smiled. "Oh." She said contentedly. All was well.  
  
They made their way back to their dorm. Since Faith had come, the two girls had been put in together in their own private dorm, away from the other Slytherin girls. The room was expansive, but the beds were pushed carelessly against a wall in a corner so that there was space for training. Buffy did most of her training in the weaponry room Harry showed her, though, and so did Faith. It was way more fun.  
  
The two girls flopped down onto Faith's double bed. Faith dumped armfuls of chocolate onto the rich emerald bedspread, which was followed by three tubs of ice cream, a bottle of chocolate sauce and lots of warm, freshly baked cookies.  
  
"Chocolate, Cookies 'n' Cream and Strawberry," Buffy said happily, shaking her numb arms. "Yeesh, cold."  
  
Faith laughed, ripping the lid off the Cookies 'n' Cream and digging her spoon in. "I used to have ice cream nights with my friends back in Boston - before the Council came and recruited me," she said.  
  
The blonde girl licked her lips, picking up a cookie. "This is naughty, full of calories," she lamented, looking at the choc chip cookie suspiciously as if it would jump up and bite her. Faith raised an eyebrow, and Buffy took a big bite quickly. "Don't hear me complaining!" she amended. Faith grinned.  
  
"So, B. You're not just dating Harry now, you've got the elf-boy going along for the ride."  
  
"Ew! C'mon, Faye. That's just wrong," Buffy giggled. "So, I noticed you and Malfoy were missing in action last night. Explain."  
  
Faith grinned widely, making her eyes hide behind thick, dark lashes. "He took me to the old dungeons in his family's manor. He didn't know I was sane at the time, though," she said smiling wickedly.  
  
"What, he still thought you were psycho girl?" Faith nodded, popping another scoop of ice cream into her mouth. Buffy shook her head, trying to comprehend Faith's actions. Even if she wasn't crazy crazy, she was still kind of.crazy. "Did you actually tell him?"  
  
Faith nodded again. "Yeah, course. At the end of the night. After the chains."  
  
Buffy shook her head with her eyes closed, trying to rid herself of the mental image. Chains? She didn't want to know. "How'd he react when you told him?"  
  
"He just shrugged and then we made out for ages."  
  
Buffy blinked, surprised. Typical Faith/Malfoy interaction. Buffy smirked inwardly as she thought about Malfoy.  
  
He thought he was so superior to everyone else. Actually, in many ways, he was. Draco Malfoy was intelligent, cunning, powerful, Pure-blooded, rich and (though Buffy thought Harry was much hotter), he was bloody good- looking as well. Buffy snorted in an unladylike fashion. He wasn't all as bad-ass as everyone thought. Upon accidentally-on-purpose stumbling into his dorm in the middle of the night, the two slayers had found out a few things about him as they raided his room. There was poetry under his bed, with a music score made for it. Evidently, a certain Prince of Slytherin wrote songs and sonnets. Interesting. Faith had made observations during her analysis of his bare, muscly chest and silk boxers as he slept, which Buffy agreed with. Also worthy of interest.  
  
"Yo, B!" Buffy blinked, and looked over at Faith.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Zoned out on me, girl. Busy thinking about your boytoy?" Faith teased, winking.  
  
"Actually, I was thinking about yours," she zinged. Faith's face darkened.  
  
"Better not be. You know I don't share - "  
  
" - or have threesomes unless it's guy/girl/guy. I know the drill," Buffy said as she rolled her eyes. "And I have no interest in Malfoy whatsoever. I got Harry, remember?"  
  
Faith relaxed, reaching for a cookie. "Okay then," she said easily. She got a scoop of ice cream and slapped it onto the choc chip cookie. Then, she squirted chocolate sauce all over it and crowned her masterpiece with another cookie. "Sugar sandwich: come to mummy," she said giggling, and struggled to take a bite.  
  
Buffy took the bottle and squirted sauce straight into her mouth. "Mmm," she gurgled. "'S good."  
  
Faith laughed. "So, B - story. You were up to the part where the X-man brought you back, I think."  
  
"Nuh, past that. Slept with evil boyfriend, remember?"  
  
Faith's eyes sparkled. "Oh, yeah. Sounds wicked bad. Go on - dish."  
  
Buffy swallowed the rest of her sauce and took a breath. Bleeding Angel. Wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for him losing his soul. "Yeah, well. Name was Angel."  
  
"Weird name for a guy."  
  
"He wasn't a man." This made Faith quiet. She looked confused. "Faith, Angel was a vampire with a soul."  
  
There was silence. Buffy looked at Faith to see her reaction. She still looked confused. Slowly, confusion melted into recognition, which turned into disbelief. Faith jumped up on the bed and started screaming with a huge grin.  
  
"Oh my god, you slept with a vamp!!" she was laughing, cackling like a madwoman. Her eyes danced and she looked like she had gone insane again. "No way! You? you nailed a VAMP?"  
  
Buffy felt her face go red. "C'mon, Faith, I.we, uh." She muttered. Faith jumped back down onto the bed, laughing.  
  
"Aw, whoa. And I thought I was bad, killing a human," she mused. "Oh, sorry, that's my story. Keep telling yours."  
  
Buffy was still very embarrassed. What would Harry say if he found out? She sighed. "Don't tell Harry, Faith. Please."  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Promise. I don't know what he'd do."  
  
"Okay, okay. Just go on, B."  
  
"Well, I - "  
  
"Oh. Shit." Faith stopped. She looked at Buffy seriously. "You say his name was Angel?"  
  
Buffy nodded. "Yeah. Why? Heard of him?"  
  
Faith nodded, looking troubled. "The Council train us Potentials in all that history crap. You don't mean Angelus, part of the Scourge of Europe, do ya?"  
  
Buffy felt her stomach twinge. "Um, yeah. That's where my story's heading, actually."  
  
"He disappeared for, like, eighty years. He got cursed with a soul, right? For killing some gypsy chick."  
  
"And I happied the soul right out of him. Angelus came back in full swing. At that time, actually, Spike and Drusilla happened to be visiting Sunnydale. The gang was back."  
  
Faith stopped. Shit, B had it pretty bad back when she was in Sunnyhell. No wonder she got messed up and killed Kendra. "What about the other Scourge chick? Darling?"  
  
Buffy smiled. "Darla. I killed her last year." She paused. "No, wait," she said, frowning. "Oh, I remember. I fought her, but Angel came and staked her in the end, for me."  
  
Buffy spared a thought for Darla. Where was she? She had disappeared out of the painting when the Master was resurrecting her. That was all well and good, but where was she? Was the resurrection a flop, or was Darla out redeeming herself, or was she just snacking on people? Buffy felt her stomach twinge again.  
  
Darla, even though she was just a painting, had been Buffy's only real friend during the first month of her rehabilitation at Hogwarts. Now she was gone, but at least Buffy had Harry and Faith now. Still, Buffy kind of missed Darla.  
  
Faith bit into another cookie. "And Kendra?"  
  
Buffy swallowed. "Angel - " she stopped. "Angelus lured me out for a fight. I can't remember what happened too clearly, but when I got back to the library, Kendra was there, and her throat was totally slashed. I went after Spike and Dru and Angelus. Angelus was opening the gateway to Hell by awakening Acathla, and I staked Dru and Spike. By the time I got to Angelus, the gateway was open. The portal to Hell was open, and the only way to close it was his blood."  
  
Faith was quiet. She had stopped eating, and was staring at Buffy incredulously. "Go on," she said softly.  
  
Buffy licked her lips. "Uh, well, we fought. Again. Swordfight. At the end, he was winning, but I." She broke off, frowning. "I don't remember too well. I had lost my sword, and was locked in a corner. He thrust his sword at my face to finish me off, and I shut my eyes. All of a sudden I was standing on the other side of him, holding both his and my sword. I forced him against Acathla and put both swords through him. I sent Angelus to hell, and the portal closed. I went back to the library and got arrested by the Council."  
  
Faith was shivering at the eerie tale. She felt prickles move up her spine. "So, where's Angelus now?" she questioned. Buffy shrugged.  
  
"Where I left him, I guess. He can't get out of Hell, it's impossible. Giles told me. And time passes differently there. Angelus is in a dimension of suffering, and has probably spent hundreds of years there, being tortured.  
  
Eternal Damnation, and I mean it."  
  
&*&*&  
  
The Master smiled, showing off his long, glistening fangs. "Well done, Richie."  
  
The Mayor grinned, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. "Well, Joe, I've told you time and time again, you just have to keep practising your game. Just because you're conquering the world doesn't mean you can let your golf slip away."  
  
The Master watched as Richard Wilkins III put his golf club back in its case, jumping into the golf buggy alongside the ancient vampire. A blonde man in billowing black robes swallowed nervously at the wheel, and drove onto the next course.  
  
"Really, Joe," the Mayor said. "Won't you play a round with me? It's not right to just watch me play. You have to be active, participate! Heck, I'm always telling the kids that." He chuckled.  
  
The Master stopped smiling. "I don't play," he said with a flat voice. "I enjoy watching."  
  
"Like those Watchers at the Council?" the Mayor laughed. "Those stuffy businessmen. I keep saying, children are the light of our future."  
  
"Or our Darkness," the Master contradicted. He spoke in a low voice, carefully articulated at all times. "My children are of the Dark."  
  
The Mayor nodded emphatically. "I know. Those two, Darla and Drusilla?" he smiled. "Charming girls. They're so quick to please. It's girls like that who really send a positive image to Sunnydale's and Hogwarts' teenagers."  
  
"Role models?" the Master purred as they both got out and walked back to the Town Hall, followed by the blonde wizard. "I like that idea. I like it a lot. Especially."  
  
He trailed off. He had big plans in mind, now that he had learned that Buffy and Faith were witch/slayers. Very big plans. Darla and Drusilla were the only other witch/slayers ever, and they turned out so well. The Master congratulated himself on that, and Angelus. Drusilla wouldn't have ever been so perfect if it weren't for that boy.  
  
The Master really loved Angelus' work ethics. Kill, but not until it's been tortured. Liam was so wicked, he made being murdering an artform. And soon, he would be back.  
  
Spike was already back. Resurrecting him had been simple, once they had something of his. Wilkins had suggested using some of the poetry he had written, and it had worked like a charm. William the Bloody was alive (so to speak) and decreasing the population of Sunnydale like there was no tomorrow. He was delighted to learn that Drusilla was back as well, but Spike was told to stay and wait for Angelus to return before following Darla and Dru to Hogwarts.  
  
The Master never really spent much time with William, but when he had, he had been proud. Although William wasn't an artist like Liam, he was a man angry at everything and quick to fight. He fought well in brawls and public fights, causing most of them. The Master admired his ambitions. When he set his mind on something, there was no turning back.  
  
"Lookie what I found, ducks," came a deep, cockney voice. The Master turned and saw Spike standing behind him.  
  
Spike was wearing his patented clothes: long black leather trenchcoat, black t-shirt covered by a blood red shirt open down the front, tight black pants and combat boots. He had let his hair grow out an inch or so, and so it was a bit curlier now with light brown regrowth. He had stopped bleaching when Dru told him it looked more rugged grown out. The Master grinned, baring his fangs.  
  
"William, my lad. How good it is to see you. You've been behaving yourself?"  
  
Spike smirked. "Yeah, in a fashion," he drawled. "Got a present for you." He stepped aside to reveal a tall man with dark eyes and hair, wearing black trousers and a maroon silk shirt. He had a scalpel in his hands, and was playing with it.  
  
"Gotta hand it to you, it's great to be home," the man said, smiling, while his eyes stayed cold.  
  
"Have a drink, won't you?" The Master smiled widely, pushing Lucius Malfoy into the man's grip. "Liam," he said warmly as the vampire sunk his fangs in, and brought his scalpel out to play with Lucius.  
  
"Angelus. It's good to have you back, my boy."  
  
&*&*& Wheeeeeeeee!! Was that fun, or was that fun? Chocolate, icecream, golf.this chappie had it all! Who else thought that Spike looked unbelievably yummy in that episode of Season 7 BtVS when he just came back, and is hiding in the basement with his long-ish, not so blonde curly hair?? MMMMMM my apologies to male readers. It's just a pity he bleached it and cut it again, ain't it, girls?  
  
If you're a guy, don't worry. Next chappies won't be so girly! Love all the reviews. Please keep them coming!! Also, with this fic, I actually have no intended end to the story. I have, like, a trillion twists and turns and plots, but the end is fuzzy, so.um.yeah! I'll keep writing for a while. That's good, I guess.  
  
ReViEw!!!!! 


	10. Fails and Nails

&*&*& A/N 

yeah I know, I know. I'm ridiculously late at updating. I'm kinda caught up in my other fic right now – sorry! But, that doesn't eman you can stop reviewing. It makes me very sad that on one site I have had over 1000 hits, and not many reviews at all. Shame on you! If I got even a fraction of that number of reviews, I would be so scared I'd update immediately.

C'mon! Review. **I DARE YOU. **

On with the story!

&*&*&

"No, really. I get it," Buffy laughed. Malfoy looked at her, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. "Or, okay, maybe not." She groaned and slumped in her library chair, thumping her head on the desk and burying her face in the heavy book. 

"Look, it's really not that hard. If the rune has a second horizontal stripe when in a third person casting, it becomes future tense."

Buffy tilted her head to the side, opening one eye a crack. "Hey, that makes a new kind of sense, where it doesn't. Why didn't I just do Muggle Studies?" She wailed. "I was brought up a muggle! Easy as pie. And, pie? I kick ass at eating too. Why can't that be a class?"

Malfoy looked torn between being disgusted and amused. "That's pathetic and you know it."

Buffy looked up hopefully. "You mean it's a class?"

Malfoy closed his eyes, bored with her antics. "We have NEWTs very soon. Could you please focus? I never thought Slayers were such airheads," he zinged.

"Well, ya learn something new everyday, doncha, peroxide?" Malfoy looked properly chastised and looked around, seeing Faith standing behind him. "And, oh yeah." She poked him hard with her wand. "You just watch it about slayers. No way am I an airhead. Brunette, remember?"

Malfoy's eyes narrowed, pulling her towards him. "You're not an airhead," he said easily, ignoring the jibe about his and Buffy's hair colour. He pulled her into a chair and kissed her forehead. "You know I never meant to insult you."

Faith grinned, and leaned forward to bite his bottom lip. "Isn't that just lucky?" 

Buffy gave them both a healthy poke in the ribs to separate them. "Help me, please!" she whined. "I'm gonna fail." She moaned some more and collected her books, heading for the door.

"Where you goin', B?" Faith called across the room, poking out her tongue under Madam Pince's glare.

"Great Hall," she answered in a depressed voice. "I'm gonna see Harry. Maybe he can make Runes easier. He does speak like a trillion languages – oh, and it's dinner time." She brightened considerably after that last comment. Food was always a plus.

Malfoy grabbed the rest of his books, and waited for a while until Faith had finished borrowing out a tome on sacrificial weapons. A few eyebrows were raised at that, but the three Slytherins continued on to the Great Hall. 

Once they arrived, Buffy automatically scanned the room for Harry's familiar dark head and bright green eyes. She noted that he was sitting over at the Gryffindor table. She smiled at him and waved. He grinned back and blew her a kiss. Giggling, she sat down next to Faith.

"Yo, B," the brunette said. "How come your boytoy's still sitting with the lions? I thought he had a falling out with his friends."

Buffy nodded. "He did. He said some pretty mean things to Granger, and now I hear Weasley's pretty pissed at him too. See how they're at separate ends of the table?"

Faith nodded. 

"Yeah, well he's still friends with everyone else. They don't believe that he said those things or was in on the prank we pulled."

Faith shook her head with a smile. "Nasty. Fun." They both laughed very loudly, and were silenced by a cold glare from Snape. Buffy blushed and looked along the head table. She saw Dumbledore whisper something to Professor McGonnogal, who was looking impatient. Buffy shrugged mentally and continued with her meal: lasagne and fresh pumpkin juice.

After ten minutes or so, a small brown school owl flew in from a door behind the head table, and perched on Professor McGonnogal's shoulder. It hooted softly in her ear, and took off again. The old woman made a nod in the Headmaster's direction, and stood, excusing herself from the table, trying her hardest not to upset the pitchers of pumpkin juice. She walked to the other end of the table and tapped Professor Wilkins on the shoulder. 

Wilkins looked up with a smile. Buffy smiled a bit too when she saw – his enthusiasm was plain infectious. Fortunately, he was down near the Slytherin end of the table. He had told his seventh-year Defence class that he was hoping, by that arrangement, to cheer up Snape. He had also mentioned something about basic cleanliness and the hair, which Buffy had to wholeheartedly agree with. After a quick word with the Transfiguration Professor, he exited the room with a chuckle through the small door that the owl had come through.

Professor Dumbledore stood. The hall slowly fell silent, only drabbles of conversations left. He cast his gaze around the Hall, his gaze lingering on Harry, Malfoy, and then really slowing on Faith and Buffy. He seemed to grow taller almost when he looked on the two girls, and his eyes hardened, shining a colder blue. Buffy suppressed a shudder.

She knew that Dumbledore still didn't trust her much, if at all. He seemed to truly hate what she had do-no, no, no. Buffy sighed mentally, frowning at herself. _Buffy, you didn't kill Kendra,_ she told herself firmly, _It was Drusilla, remember?_ Funny. For a moment, she almost believed herself. Although, she knew for a fact that he was learning to like both witch/slayers more and more. They weren't killing anyone, after all.

Dumbledore had cleared his throat now, and Buffy snapped back to reality as he commenced his address.

"As you all know, two Seventh-year girls in Slytherin, Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkinson, left a couple of weeks ago on an exchange program to America. They are going to continue their alternate subject studies in a school in a small town called Sunnydale, which Professor Wilkins has facilitated. Just today, two girls have arrived at Hogwarts. They have both been placed in Slytherin. These girls are new to Hogwarts, so please make them feel at home."

With that, Professor Wilkins came through the door with two girls in Slytherin robes. He ushered them to the front of the hall. They were both around seventeen, one with strawberry blonde hair falling in soft waves around her peaches and cream face; the other with dark brown hair pulled back from her face and secured with a silver ornament. The second girl had fragile, bony features, and a very slender shape. Her eyes were dark and had an odd quality to them, not unlike Loony Lovegood's. The difference was, Luna from Ravenclaw looked like a scared bunny rabbit; the new girl looked like a cat.

The paler of the two seemed to be more confident. She smiled at everyone, earning some whistles from the Slytherin table and jealous looks from the boys in the other tables. Her eyes were a greeny-blue, and sparkled in her face. She looked very sweet, unlike the pug that Parkinson had been or the bulldozer that was Bulstrode.

Faith had been clapping along with everyone else before realizing that Buffy wasn't. Malfoy too looked perplexed, gazing hard at the two newcomers. Her platinum boyfriend looked confused, and Buffy was looking incredulous.

"Wow," she whispered. Along the table, Buffy heard Malfoy mutter, "Now that's just…neat."

Professor Dumbledore waited for the clapping to stop. 

"I'd like to introduce Drusilla Edith and Darla Aurelius!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Look, Peaches, I don't see why we can't just go now."

Angelus surveyed Spike through hooded eyes. "Because we need to give the girls some time to get settled in at Hogwarts. They need to follow their orders, and we do too." For the meanwhile, Angelus thought to himself, his face not betraying his inner thoughts.

"Yeah? And why can't we just storm the place, cause a riot? All that magic blood, it's calling me."

Spike grinned, cracking some knuckles. He loved riots – all the mayhem, confusion, fear and loss. It was just fun.

Angelus rolled his eyes. "You almost got Dru killed in a riot, remember?" he found a long, rusty nail on the ground and picked it up. He turned it around in his hands, a slow smile starting to form on his face. Spike didn't even have to ask what he was planning to do with his new toy, he just knew it would be painful.

"Yeah, I remember," Spike spat, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And, sorry, who killed Darla? Who staked his bleedin' sire? I forget… was it – you? Oh, that's right, you killed her to help that bloody Slayer."

The smile on Angelus' face faded. He looked up, eyes burning. "That wasn't me. Darla knew that. If it were me, I would have tortured my baby girl properly, before I staked her." A sadistic smile was creeping back as he spoke the last sentence, and he started laughing. 

Spike still didn't look impressed. "I didn't believe it when Dru told me you did Darla in. That's one of the golden rules - never _ever_ stake a sire! You're probably the one who told me that in the first place, bleedin' hypocrite."

"Yeah, well at least we don't have to worry about you hurting Dru. She's got you wrapped around her little finger. Just a pity she doesn't return your undying love-much like another girl. What was her name, Cecil-"

With a snarl, Spike launched himself at Angelus. He grabbed the larger vampire by the collar and pushed him up against a wall. "Don't you even dare, soul-boy."

Angelus looked down at Spike. "What, can't handle the fact that she likes me more? Face it, William, you're just not man enough for a girl like that."

Spike morphed into vamp mode, baring his teeth and bringing back his fist to punch. He stopped himself as he saw the Master around the corner of the door. With a nod, the ancient vampire stalked off silently.

Spike released his grandsire and waited until he was sure that the Master had gone. He turned to Angelus, still angry. Angelus was laughing again.

"Can you imagine?" the dark-haired vampire said. "The two of them, Darla and Buff, together in the school. The Master told me that Darla had to go there and make nice, try to get the slayer on our side."

"Both slayers," Spike mused, looking at the two tied up bodies in front of him. He felt suddenly hungry. Young girl? She'd taste sweet. Football player? He'd be more meaty… "The other one got sent there too."

Angelus looked up quickly. "Two?" he asked. "I thought there was only one slayer at a- " he stopped. No, there was Kendra, he told himself. Buff killed her, that's why she was at that school in the first place. But Kendra was dead, so…

"The Jamaican slayer got replaced by this other one. Name's Faith. She's bollixed up to begin with – I don't think she'll be hard to get on our side. It'll be even easier when that other bitch is as well."

"Bollixed up?"

"A whole cabinet in the police station is dedicated to her criminal record. Bleedin' saint, she is." The blonde vampire chuckled. She sounded like she liked having fun.

"So how did Darla and Dru get in? I thought the place was guarded against vampires."

"Well, you're an inquisitive young man, now aren't you?" Spike whipped around awkwardly in surprise, but Angelus just looked up in a more fluid movement. A man had just appeared, and was giggling like a schoolboy. 

"Wilkins," Angelus said smoothly. 

"Evening, gentlemen. I just came back from the school." The Mayor of Sunnydale looked very chipper indeed. "Everyone's gone to bed an hour ago over there, and - " he looked out the window. "Yes, the sun's about to rise. I'm right on time." He clapped his hands together enthusiastically. 

Spike looked perplexed. "You mean as soon as you can go to sleep in one place, you pretend to wake up in another?" 

The Mayor looked the blonde vampire in the eye. "I am immortal, you know. I've been here for a hundred years or so."

"Oh. Right, then."

"I don't need to sleep, so when it's dark in Sunnydale I go to Hogwarts. I'm a professor there. To make my visits in each place seem like I never actually leave, I use this little trinket." The Mayor pulled a long gold chain from inside his shirt. On the chain was a tiny hourglass in a gold setting.

"What's that, then?" Spike said.

Angelus prowled forward. He took the hourglass in his hand. "Time Turner," he said calmly. "Clever."

Mayor Wilkins looked happy. "Well, I just got the girls settled in. Guess who they're sharing a dorm with?"

Spike smirked, and Angelus looked on steadily. Wilkins continued, "I put them in together with the slayers. Darla, Dru, Buffy and Faith all together! They're going to get along fine, I imagine."

"So?"

The Mayor glanced at Angelus. "What do you mean, 'so'?"

"You didn't answer my question. How the hell did they get in? I thought the place had vampire wards, and protection spells?"

Wilkins sighed with a smile. "Yes. The wards were fooled by a spell that hides the vampire 'qualities', so they seem like humans now. They both have reflections, hunger, ability to go in sunlight, everything. The spell is only temporary though, so every day they need a top up from a potion. The spell is '_Lamia Dissimulo,'_ and it's very effective. The only other problem is that, well, they still couldn't enter unless they were invited, so I arranged the swap. The Headmaster himself invited them both in to stay."

Angelus looked satisfied. "Will it work to get Spike and I in?"

Wilkins nodded. "Yes, I don't see why not." He was grinning excitedly. 

"Good old Slytherin, eh? Between you and I, I think that even if some of the Slytherins _knew _ you were vampires, they'd still let you in. Crafty little things, aren't they? No wonder so many of them turned out as Death Eaters."

Spike. "I can't wait to get back to school. I was in Slytherin, too."

Mayor Wilkins smiled. "I went to Durmstrang a couple of hundred years ago. That's where I learnt everything I know." He turned to Angelus.

"So how about you? Did you have fun when you were at school?"

Angelus looked thoughtful. He played with the rusty nail he still held. "Yeah, I did actually. I didn't get to finish, though. My father was away at war when I started, my mother sent me. When he came back, he pulled me out. 'Satanic child' and all that crap." 

The Mayor looked sympathetic. "Oh, dear. At least you did what your father told you to do like a good son should."

"Yeah. He was really my inspiration when I was stalking Dru, driving her insane."

"Wow. I'll bet you can't wait to get back to Hogwarts, then - see Slytherin again. It'll be like going home."

Angelus paused. He looked up at Wilkins hard. "Not really," he drawled with a smirk. "But I still can't wait to go back to my old common room. That's home to me."

Wilkins frowned. "What do you mean? Is it or not?"

Angelus smirk deepened. "I'll be glad to go home, but not to Slytherin."

He threw the rusty nail at one of the bodies tied up in front of him. 

"I was in Gryffindor."

&*&*&

A/N who saw that one coming?? WHO??

Please review. It makes me happy and I write more.

I** DOUBLE DARE **you to **REVIEW**. Also, if you like Darla-centric stories, check out my newie, Immortals alike. It's a one-shot ficlet. Give it a try and tell me what you think.


	11. Four and Chanel

DISCLAIMER I don't own Buffy, or Harry. They and their respective worlds belong to JossWhedon and Mutant enemy, and to JK Rowling. Don't sue. Please???

Hello there everyone and thanks for reviewing the last chappie.

Some messages for certain reviewers are at the end.

&*&*&

Buffy flopped onto her bed, and was followed by Faith. The two slayers were really close friends now. Not having much of a chance to talk the day before, Buffy had insisted that the four girls, Faith, Darla, Dru and herself, have a chat this morning. The two vampiresses pulled over some beanbags and sat down in them next to the cream bed. 

Buffy pulled her doona (A/N this means a comforter or a duvet, I'm australian) up to her knees. "So," she said conversationally. "I think us girls need a talk."

Faith looked at her slay-sister. "Yeah. From what I gathered from B, you two are supposed to be dust at the moment. And since when are you students?"

Darla smiled. "It's a long story," she said delicately, beaming triumphantly. 

Buffy's eyes narrowed. "Let's start at the beginning," she said. "Are you vampires? And if so, how did you get in the school when I KNOW that there are wards to keep you out."

Drusilla smiled like a cat. "We are, and not. Like the winds - there but not." She mused to herself.

Buffy glared. "Need I remind the peanut gallery that it is _her_ fault I am stuck here in the first place?"

While Darla laughed and Drusilla pouted, Faith leaned over to whisper discreetly in Buffy's ear, "Why don't you just stake her? Seems the right thing to do to a murderous vamp."

Dru glowered at Faith. "Bad girl. Being mean to Princess."

Buffy snorted. "And if I stake her, what then? Dumbledore would be doubly pissed that I killed _another_ person, especially a student of his. Plus, there's no proof that she's a killer."

Darla nodded. "There's that. And although we were brought back as vampires, there would be a small issue as we were brought back…differently."

Buffy tilted her head to the side. "I think we can safely assume that the Master resurrected you. It had something to do with the portraits, as well." She frowned. "And what's with the portraits? When I talked to you, you were humans…but, Dru was crazy, and Angelus didn't drive her insane until _after_ she left for Hogwarts, so how does that work?"

Darla fell silent for a time. She looked at Buffy carefully. "Have you bothered to read _Hogwarts: a History_?" she asked. 

Buffy shook her head. "No, not completely. I do know that you two were students here, _and_ that you were both witch/slayers as well."

Faith started at this. "Yo, B, I didn't know that. You two were slayers?" she said, disbelieving. 

Dru and Darla exchanged a look, and nodded. Faith laughed, jumping up. "Woohoo! This rocks, man! Check us out - the Chosen Four!"

Buffy had to grin. "And we're the most powerful slayers ever, too. I mean, none of the other slayers were witches as well. It gives the four of us extra power."

"Not us," Dru said grouchily. "Or, not before anyway."

Buffy quirked an eyebrow. "Huh? What do you mean by that?"

"Once we became vampires, we lost most of our magicks. As soon as our souls were lost, our wands didn't work anymore." She whinged, pouting.

Buffy looked like she knew what they were on about. "That'd figure. I would have thought that when we were fighting you woulda used a wand every now and then. Must suck, huh. Losing your powers."

Darla nodded. "It was terrible. We did still have extra strength and speed, what with being slayers though. And - well, I'm sure you're aware of our _other_ talents."

Buffy paused. She looked at Drusilla. "You mean how she can see the future?" she asked. "And hypnotise?"

Dru nodded, giggling suddenly. Darla smiled. "It is the thrall. All master vampires have it. Also…after we lost our wands, we discovered that we could do other magic."

Buffy frowned. "Like what?"

"We discovered that being witch/slayers gave us extra abilities, magically. Did you know how much metaphysical energy we have at our disposal?" She laughed, her eyes twinkling. "We found out that witch/slayers have the ability to use our magic without a wand. We could do Wiccan magic."

Buffy fell silent. Her eyes grew wide, and her heart skipped a beat. "You mean…Faith and I could do wandless magic as well?" she asked incredulously. Darla nodded. 

Faith grinned. "Wow, that rocks. Now, back to the story. You were on about those wacked portraits."

Buffy whipped her head back. "Yeah, 'sup with that?"

Darla's eyes flashed. "There was an…event…back in 1887," she began slowly. "It's known as the Hogwarts Massacre."

Buffy felt chilled to her bones. "You…with the Scourge…" she stammered. 

Darla shrugged, smiling. "Fun times. We all missed the school, came back for a visit and a good meal, if you catch my drift." She said with a laugh. 

Buffy looked sceptical. "All? You mean Ange-" she swallowed, "Angelus and Spike went here to?"

No way. This was just getting too weird. Angel had been a wizard, and he never said anything? As if!

"Yes," Darla said confidently. "We all went here at one time or another. Spike and Angelus still don't have any magic, though. After they were turned, their wands didn't work and that was the end of that."

Drusilla made sweeping motions with her hands. "Our portraits were made _before_ wizard paint or wizarding film was used, so they didn't move or speak. When we came to visit, we made them animated."

"So you see," Darla went on, "the portraits were of us as humans, but with out personalities and knowledge. And Dru's talents."

Buffy's head was spinning. "This is a lot to take in, you know," she mumbled. 

Faith nodded, looking serious. "I know how to make it better though, blondie," she said, winking. Buffy looked dubious, but brightened when Faith produced a plate of cookies from under her bed. "I got some more from the kitchens, anticipating the need for chocolate."

Buffy rolled her eyes, taking a cookie. Darla took one, eyeing it carefully, while Drusilla just stared.

Darla sighed. "So, anyway, I guess if you're going to be technical, we are humans right now. There was this spell cast, and as long as Dru and I take a sip of potion everyday, we're human."

Buffy smiled. "Sounds good to me. As long as you're human, I promise not to go all slayergal on you." She turned to Drusilla.

"But this still doesn't mean that I'm not pissed at you, cuz I am. It's your fault I got thrown in here for rehab. I never killed Kendra, and no one believes me."

Drusilla looked pouty. "I had my fun," she groused, "And you have yours. But you do not like the school at all? So many little stars, dancing and shining in my eyes."

Buffy felt herself turn a little pink. "Well, okay, there are parts of Hogwarts that aren't totally bad."

Faith snorted and threw a pillow at her. "Yeah, cuz you're so hating having to spend time with Harry. All that making out must be torture, huh, being with such a hideous, cheap, stupid guy and all." 

Buffy gaped. "Excuse me? That had better be sarcasm, or else I _will_ hurt you for that." She glowered at Faith.

The darker haired girl rolled her eyes. "Duh. Sarcasm." And broke into laughter along with Darla. After a moment, Buffy joined in. even Dru seemed on the verge of understanding the humour, in her own twisted way.

Drusilla stared at Buffy. "You and the Boy Who Lived. He had such innocence, his face glows with the sun. Rises, sets. Rises, sets. He has set now, but when the sun rises again, he will be made pure once more. The Sun will rise! The Sun is dull now…but how she shines…"

Darla looked mildly impressed. "Fantastic. Another prediction," she said offhandedly.

"So, Buffy," the strawberry blonde said, turning to Buffy, "have you even tried to prove your innocence?"

Buffy froze. She swung to face Darla. "What do you mean?" she said slowly. "I…I think there was a trial held at the Watchers' Council…but I don't think I was there…"

Darla shook her head impatiently. "I mean, did you bother talking to old Dumbles? There are ways to tell if someone's telling the truth using magic."

Faith frowned. "Damn, shoulda thought of that…" she muttered, taking a big chomp out of a cookie.

Buffy shook her head, eyes wide. "I didn't know…what ways are there?"

Darla smiled. "Well, there's this little potion, you see. It's a Truth potion, called a Veritaserum."

Buffy felt a grin spread across her face. She was feeling warm and bubbly inside with excitement. "You mean, I could…I could prove I'm innocent? I could just go home now?" she babbled, then her face began to drop a bit. "But – but I couldn't leave Harry. I love him too much. And, where would I go? Sunnydale? I don't think that the American police department would put much faith in magic."

"Plus," Faith added, "Why would you go back when your old friends think you did it?"

Buffy looked miserable. "I'm happy here. And, what would they do to Dru? Stake her, throw her in that wiggy wizard prison? Harry said Zack-a-bam is a pretty rough place," she said grimly.

Drusilla bit her bottom lip. "Zack-a-bam?" she echoed incredulously, and Darla tried her best not to snort. 

"It's called Azkaban, Buffy. Don't worry about us; we've been undead and kicking for a couple hundred years. A few wizards aren't going to stop us. Especially since now we have all our powers."

Buffy bit her lip. "But, although I would love to be proven innocent, I don't want to be sent home."

Faith put a comforting hand on her sister slayer's shoulder. "C'mon, B. Dumble's a nice guy. If you're a good girl then I'm sure he'd let you crash at his castle for as long as you want. He seems a pretty decent fossil, if you ask me. That, and because you're a witch, he'd be roped in to finish your education!"

Buffy's face lit up. "So – should I just go and ask for a Truth potion?"

Darla grinned. "The sooner, the better."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two hours later, Buffy stood outside the Headmaster's office with Harry, Faith, Malfoy, Darla and Drusilla. She was feeling very nervous.

What if he didn't let her take the potion? Why hadn't he given it to her before? Buffy stopped, frowning. Hey, what was up with that? If he were a decent, honest guy, wouldn't Dumbledore have gone to the trouble of giving her a Veritaserum in the first place, instead of just going on what Weatherby and Smith said? 

Buffy started to feel hot under the collar. Weatherby and Smith. Aaargh, she hated them so much! Those smug bastards. They didn't just do their jobs, they enjoyed kicking the slayer when she was down. How low was that. And they didn't just take her on, they injected a poison into her body first, and then attacked her. Why didn't any one else see that?

In retrospect, it should have been easy to see that Buffy hadn't killed Kendra. True, Buffy didn't actually remember what happened awfully well, but when Kendra was found, her throat was slashed. Buffy didn't have any knives with her! Okay…a sword, maybe…but no, it wasn't that. It was lots of little slashes, not the work of her sword.

Buffy sighed, knocking on the stone gargoyle again. Didn't he ever answer the door? 

The world just couldn't handle how powerful I am, Buffy thought. Well, not the world, but Weatherby and Smith definitely. And then rest of the Council. In the end, it all comes down to power.

The Watchers don't have as much power as I do, so they tried to take me down. They thought I was a threat, and…well, it won't be that way for much longer.

Frowning, she turned to the dark haired girl beside her. "Faith," she said hesitantly, "Why don't you take a Veritaserum as well?"

Faith looked startled, and whipped her head around to face the petite blonde quickly. 

"Um…Buff, I-"

Buffy shook her head. "You could be proven innocent as well! You so should."

Faith studied her nails, her eyes failing to meet Buffy's. "I-uh, no. No thanks, B."

Buffy's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" she asked, confused. "Wouldn't you like to be-"

"She can't, Buffy."

The blonde turned quickly to look at Drusilla, who was shaking her head. "Huh?"

Faith rolled her eyes. "I did it, okay? I killed a guy. It may have been a mistake, but I still killed a guy. I'm a murderer."

Buffy felt a chill at the offhand tone she was using. "Well, okay," she said slowly. "But if it wasn't your fault, then maybe-"

"_And you did as well_."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Angelus stalked into the Mayor's office, flopping into the chair opposite Wilkins and swinging his feet up onto the desk. His boots fell with a _thump_, splattering mud and a fair bit of blood everywhere. He grinned disarmingly at the fuming Mayor, who was glaring daggers at him.

"So, Dick, guess what I've been up to?"

The Mayor of Sunnydale sat down, seething inwardly, and put on a pair of rubber gloves before starting to wipe down the mess. "Well, from the looks of you, it would appear you've been in a fight."

Angelus threw his head back and laughed, as if it were some huge personal joke. He put his feet back onto the floor and leaned forward, touching the lacerations across his cheek. Wilkins noted that one arm looked broken, and not to mention several ribs.

"And what a fight it was. This chick, I don't know what she was! Looked human, but had a whole lot of power. Strength, speed, stamina - that, and she just wouldn't bleed. Bashed her face in with a sledgehammer and she just rolled her pretty little eyes at me."

The Mayor raised his eyebrows. "Wow," he intoned, as Spike came in, looking bloody and bruised. He was carrying an unconscious man, who was dressed like he had just come out of Monty Python and the Holy Grail. "Well, what was she?"

Angelus frowned and shrugged. "Beats me. She wasn't a zombie or a vamp, definitely not a spirit or a demon. She looked human."

Spike grunted, pulling off his black leather duster gingerly to reveal a ripped shirt, and deep gouged across his chest. "Like twenty slayers rolled into one," he groaned, "except she didn't have slayer essence at all. Smelled wrong. That, or it was all the bloody Chanel she was wearing." He chuckled at his own joke.

Wilkins looked up as the Master entered the room. He nodded to the ancient vampire, and looked back at Angelus. "So, how did you defeat her?"

"Funny thing," he hummed. "King Arthur here," he gestured to the comatose man, "and about a thousand of his friends came to help. And there were monks. One of them had a big, round, golden thing, and it repelled her. We beat her down for a long time, but she just wouldn't die. In the end, she transformed into another person, a man. I drank the lucky bastard, and she didn't reappear."

The Master tapped a long, tapering talon on his chin. "And the thousand men?" he asked.

Spike shrugged. "All dead, apart from the one we saved for questioning," he said.

Wilkins sighed. "Well, let's just see, shall we?" he took a long piece of wood out of his desk and pointed it at the man. "_Enervate_."

The man stirred a little, his eyes opening a crack. He saw Spike first, and shot up. "What has happened? Where are my brethren?" he gasped, groping around for a weapon. He turned around and saw the Master. His eyes grew wide, and he crossed himself, muttering and shaking his head wildly.

The ancient vampire stepped forward, capturing the man's throat in between his claws. "What were you fighting?" He asked. The Master was not one to mince words.

The man was sweating visibly, and glared up at him. "Back, demon!" he spat. The Master lifted the man off his feet, by his throat. The man began to struggle for breath.

"Tell me," he said gently, golden eyes boring into the man's. He tried to free himself, but it was fruitless. 

"The…the Beast," he muttered. "The Beast called Glorificus. What of it?"

Angelus kicked the man in the back. "She's dead, Arty. So, what was she after?"

The Master let go, and the man fell to the floor with a thump. He gasped for air through his damaged windpipe, and the Master vampire walked to the window, watching the moon without a word.

The man on the floor regained his breath. "You killed the Beast?" he asked incredulously.

Angelus sighed and pointed a very sharp sword to the man's throat. "I asked a question, crusade boy," he said tonelessly.

The man was shaking. "The Beast…It is after the Key. The Key opens dimensions, and if the Beast succeeds, then It will open all walls. The dimensions bleed into each other, and It could go home."

Angelus shrugged, and pushed the blade home into the man's throat. "Well, there you go," he said. "Still don't know what the wee beastie was, though."

"She is Glorificus," the Master said from the window. "I am very, very pleased that you succeeded killing her."

Spike frowned. "That's nice. And Glorificus is what?"

The Master turned. "She _was_ a god."

&*&*&

A/N hey there everyone!!!

I have had some really bad internet connection issues, so I'm sorry this is so late. I'm writing, okay!! Thanks loads to everyone who reviewed.

On ff.net: 

**Kyra2** and **Reese**, thank you so much!! Yay, luv ya guys! You're great reviewers. 

**Lil Badass**, thanks a million! You rock. This is for you!!!

On tth:

**Cutiepi**: special thanks for your review, it really got me thinking more about how my plot worked. I tried to solve most issues you brought up in this chapter, so thanks! ….you think I write everyone OOC? Okay…sniff that's okay, I guess…sniff thanks….and as you asked? Not all evil!! 


	12. Musk and Pensieve

Some rants and thanks at the end. A/N finished. Continued from last chapter* 

Faith rolled her eyes. "I did it, okay? I killed a guy. It may have been a mistake, but I still killed a guy. I'm a murderer."

Buffy felt a chill at the offhand tone she was using. "Well, okay," she said slowly. "But if it wasn't your fault, then maybe-"

"_And you did as well_."

Buffy squinted at Drusilla, feeling chilled. "What?" she asked in a dangerous tone. "What did you just say?"

Drusilla pouted dramatically. "Little birdie flown the nest, flown the nest."

Buffy shook her head. "What do you mean? I didn't kill Kendra - _you­ _did, Drusilla! You bitch, how dare you say it was me! You've done some pretty disgusting things to me - killed Kendra, tried to get Xander, you nearly killed my Angel after torturing him -"

She took a menacing step forward, but was caught by Harry. "Whoa there, Buff. Relax. Can I just point out that fighting another student right outside the Headmaster's office is NOT a good idea? I can get away with trashing his office, but hey, I'm Harry Potter. I get away with it."

Buffy looked up at Harry angrily, ignoring his attempts to make her laugh. "She did it! She killed Kendra, and all this time I've been blamed for it! How can she even _think_ that it was me?"

Dru started to rock back and forward on her heels, humming with a serene smile on her face. "Ask no questions, be told no lies," she said in a teasing voice.

Buffy looked at her skeptically. "Whatever," she ground out forcefully. "You know what? It's not worth the effort. I'm just gonna go now, and get my Verisapotion."

"Veritaserum."

"Yeah. What Harry said." Buffy rolled her eyes. You all gonna stay here?"

Harry spoke for all of them. "We wouldn't miss it for the world," he said sincerely. "We'll wait for you outside." Buffy smiled again. He really was a sweetie.

After taking another deep breath, Buffy squared her shoulders and knocked once more on the door, before walking into the office.

Professor Dumbledore was seated behind his desk, petting his phoenix. _Fawkes,_ Buffy thought absently. The Headmaster looked up at Buffy, smiling a bit.

"Miss Summers! To what do I owe this pleasure?" he said in a warm voice. Lately, he had been getting nicer and nicer to her. She smiled back. 

"Um, Professor.I'm just going to get straight to the point."

Dumbledore nodded. "Off course. Musk stick?" he asked lightly, offering her a bowl of pink lollies. She fought back a smile, and shook her head politely.

"No thanks, sir. I was just talking with Darla and Drusilla before, and we were discussing my.er, predicament."

Dumbledore looked a bit surprised. "You don't tell many people, though, do you?"

Buffy felt her face turning the same colour as the musk sticks. She couldn't really tell him that she knew the two ex-vampires. What was she going to say? _Sorry, sir, but your new students are actually vampires in a previous unlife and were half of the Scourge of Europe and have already been responsible for a massacre in Hogwarts many years ago and I just happen to be able to tell them things cuz we go so far back?_ Ha ha ha. Not bloody likely.  

"We get on really well. We've bonded. Like peas in a pod. Bonded peas. We're also sharing a dorm, and I kind of felt it courteous to tell them."

Dumbledore's beard twitched in a smile. "Very considerate of you."

Buffy coloured, taking a seat opposite the aged man. "And, anyway, you know how I still maintain the whole 'innocent' view? Well, Darla mentioned this thing called a Veritaserum."

Dumbledore nodded, looking more serious. "A Truth Potion. It is used in many magical trials."

Buffy pulled a face. "What, and I was an exception?"

"Pardon, Miss Summers?"

"I don't recall ever having a trial at all, much less being offered a Truth potion."

There was silence in the office as Buffy watched her Headmaster, apprehension and anxiety written on her face among confusion. Dumbledore stared at her sadly.

"Miss Summers," he said in a gentle voice, "You must not have known."

Buffy frowned, uncomprehending. "What?" 

"I am aware, you know, that you have been restored to full strength. After Harry gave that to you, you may have noticed I stopped giving you tranqillisers."

Buffy froze. Her stomach dropped to the floor and her heart caught in her throat. Figuratively, of course, although she had seen it done in a demon. "I - sir, I mean - "

"It is perfectly fine, Miss Summers. I was going to stop using it anyway, because I know the effects it has, whereas the Watchers' Council do not."

Buffy slouched in her chair, her face blank. "Effects? We're not just talking about rashes and split ends, are we?"

Dumbledore looked very sad. "In too high doses, and too often, a person on the drug has some memory loss. You may have felt very.distant.and that is because you probably missed a few things."

Buffy felt an icy claw grip her heart. "How.I mean, what did I miss?" she croaked. 

"By my estimation," Dumbledore replied gently, "About three or four hours. Your slayer immunity had reduced the effect to that much."

Buffy swallowed. "Okay," she whistled. "I don't know where you're going with this weird train of thought. What did I miss?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily and stood, walking over to a small wooden cabinet. He bent down, opening the door. Buffy craned her neck to see what he was pulling out. At first, Buffy thought it was just a really, really big silver vase.  

Dumbledore straightened and placed the heavy thing on his desk. Buffy leaned forward to see that it had swirly, glittery silver stuff inside it. Was it liquid, or more like sand?

"This is called a Pensieve. It is a magical object that records memories when one has too many thoughts. You can access these memories by touching the surface. I think you may want to watch it."

Buffy looked at the Pensieve. "You mean if I touch this, I'll remember?"

"No, but you'll see firsthand what happened. This is from my memory."

Dumbledore took her hand, and together they touched the surface of the Pensieve. 

Buffy felt a strange rushing feeling, and all of a sudden was dragged forward into the bowl. It was like falling through something icy cold and very dark. Buffy fought down some panic, and shut her eyes tightly. 

When she opened them again, she was sitting at a dark, polished desk on a dark, polished chair. Everything around her was dark, polished wood and obviously very classy. She looked to her left, she saw Dumbledore sitting next to her. "We are at the Watcher's Council, in London," he said. "No one here can see or hear us."

Buffy's eyes widened. She looked around the room in surprise. So this was where Giles hailed from! This was the top-secret ancient organization that controlled the Slayers. Her mind whirled. Merrick and Giles came from here, they both would have spent a long time in this building.

She jerked when she realized that she and Dumbledore were not alone. Also sitting at the long desk were several people. Some Buffy recognized, most she did not. Quentin Travers was there. Weatherby and Smith were there, to her irritation. She saw a man that matched Faith's description of her watcher, Wesley Wyndam-Price, perfectly. She looked over to where Travers was sitting, swirling some amber liquid in a crystal shot glass. _Old Traver's a drinker?_ She thought humorously.  Presently, he stood.

"We all know why we are here today. Let's begin by introducing ourselves, for the record." he said in his upper-class English accent. He nodded to a woman who looked like a secretary, holding a notepad and pen. 

One by one, every Watcher present raised a hand, murmuring their name. As they did so, the woman wrote down the names. Buffy listened, and judged each person.

Quentin Travers._ Well, duh. _

Lord Roberts_. Never heard of him. _

Wesley Wyndam-Price_. Ha-ha! I was right._

Roger Zabuto.  Buffy paused. _Oh, God. Kendra's Watcher._

Lord Anthony.  _Nope. Another stranger. James Bond wannabe._

Sir James. _Sounds like royalty. Looks like the Grand old Duke of York, whoever he was._

Lady Wydeville. _No way. WOMEN get to be Watchers too? Huh. She looks nice. Kinda reminds me of mom._

Smith. Weatherby. _Yeah? I'll show them.as soon as I get my Veritaserum._

After that was done, Travers heaved a great sigh. "We are here today to decide a suitable course of action for Miss Buffy Summers, one of the current Slayers. Everyone one here has already been informed, so I'll be brief. Miss Summers is accused of murdering another Slayer. Such is the gravity of this crime, it has never happened before - also because there were two Slayers. At the request of Rupert Giles, her Watcher, Miss Summers is to be placed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the duration of her incarceration. Her position on the Hellmouth will be filled by the next Slayer, Miss Faith Morgan. Her new Watcher is to be Wesley Wyndam-Price."

Wesley beamed, looking very proud. He stuck out his chest and sniffed importantly through his nose. Buffy rolled her eyes. Yep, he was just like Faith described. 

"Before Summers' sentence is carried out, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, and Ruupert Giles, have requested the Watchers' Council to have an appeal. She ahs already been proven guilty in our courts during her trial, but Professor Dumbledore and Giles have recommended that we try giving Summers a Veritaserum."

The woman, Lady Wydeville, nodded. "A truth potion? I've been saying for years that our system is a bit too Muggle. The Slayer is a mythical creature, after all, and as such should be subject to magical trial."

Travers sniffed. "Yes. Well, then. Smith, if you would, kindly collect the them."

Smith got up, gave a little nod, and walked out. After a few seconds, he came back into the room. Buffy gave a gasp when she saw who was behind him.

She saw her own self walking in, looking very dazed. Albus Dumbledore followed. Buffy was confused. She looked next to her, and saw Dumbledore sitting on her left! So, he was watching the whole thing, _and_ in it, just like her. This Pensieve thing sure was creepy.

Dumbledore, the one behind Smith, walked forward. "I have prepared the Veritaserum, Quentin," he said in a formal voice. "Would you like me to administer it to the girl now?"

Quentin nodded. Dumbledore looked very sad, and disappointed. It's such a shame, his eyes seemed to say. In one movement, he tipped a small vial of clear liquid down Buffy's throat - the dazed Buffy, not the audience Buffy.

Buffy watched her own face go even slacker, if that were even possible. Dumbledore sighed. "Let the Inquisition begin," he said. 

Travers leaned forward in his chair at the head of the table. "What is your name, Slayer?"

"Elizabeth Anne Summers." She heard herself answer in a flat, expressionless voice. It was totally hollow, void of any emotion.

"Who is your Watcher?"

"Rupert Giles."

"Have you killed a lot of vampires?"

"Yes."

"Are you good at killing things?"

"Yes." There was silence in the room. Everyone was leaning forward. Some were looking angry, some sad, some pitying, some anxious. Dumbledore was looking determined. He was radiating a strong aura, looking younger than he had in a while. His eyes remained cold.

Travers took a sip of brandy. "Have you killed creatures other than vampires? Or demons?"

"Yes."

Travers was frowning deeply. "I don't like to lose a good Slayer," he said, mainly to himself. He continued with the final question.

"Have you killed another Slayer of your own free will?"

Everyone in the room tensed. The silence was almost unbearable, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. Buffy realized she was holding her breath, but couldn't bear to let it go. She felt cold sweat running down her face and back. _Please,_ she prayed. _Please say no!_

The dazed Buffy seemed to be struggling. She was quiet for a long time, but wouldn't answer properly.

Roger Zabuto banged his fist on the table, hate written upon his face. "Damnit, you bitch! Did you kill Kendra or not?"

Dazed-Buffy gave her answer immediately. "Yes."

Buffy Summers felt her world shatter. Her heart jumped up into her throat and she started to gasp for breath. A sob escaped her and she became oblivious to everything around her. She didn't! 

"No," she gasped. "No, I didn't! I never did it, I -"

Dumbledore caught her arm. "Miss Summers, please calm yourself. Relax."

Buffy opened her eyes, letting the tears run out. She looked up at Dumbledore and noted dimly that she was back in his office at the school. 

"But I never did it, I was framed - I framed myself, I believe it but I know I didn't, it's."

She broke off into large sobs, wracking her body. She hadn't had a cry for a very long time.

She looked up at her Headmaster. "Please," she cried, "You have to believe me!"

Dumbledore was quiet. "I believe you, Miss Summers."

Buffy took a deep breath. "Wh-what?" she stammered amid her tears. 

"That is only part of what you missed. Right after that, there is another scene in the Pensieve that you need to see. We need to go back in there."

Buffy wiped her tears on her sleeve. "I can't go back," she said bitterly. "God, I can't.I mean, not only does everyone think I'm a murderer, they make me think it too! My friends turned on me.my mom, she threw me out.Giles probably hates me.he didn't even turn up to the hearing."

Dumbledore was quiet. "As I said, Miss Summers. We need to go back."

Buffy took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. Okay, this totally sucked. Big time. _I need to get a grip,_ she thought. _I mean, it's nothing I didn't already think.stop it! I'm the Slayer, I'm not supposed to be all pessimistic girl. I'm determined, save-the-world-girl. Huh. That just sucks.  _She took another breath, and touched the surface of the Pensieve. After a second or two, she was back in the Watcher's Council HQ. After a quick calculation. Buffy decided that it was the next few moments following what she had just witnessed. Travers was mid-speech.

"Summers will be taken to the school for the duration of her detainment. By the power invested in me from the Watcher's Council, her terms will be as such: the Slayer will be given this organic compound," he said, holding up a syringe of what Buffy realized with a squirm was the tranquillizer, "-every day, to maintain the a state of calm, also so she is rendered harmless. This will continue for-"

"You can't do that."

Every person in the room froze at the quiet statement.

Travers whipped around to face the doorway, where a dark figure was standing. "Pardon?" he said in a haughty voice. "Are you questioning my judgement, man?"

The man in question stepped forward. Buffy's heart skipped a beat. She would know those glasses and tweed clothes anywhere!

"You know it, Quentin." Giles said in an even tone, thoroughly calm. "You also know the risks associated with that compound in high doses. Brain damage."

There was silence. Wesley shook his head from across the room. "Surely not," he protested, sounding insulted. "The Council has its roots in ancient lore, and the drug has been known for centuries -"

"And it's been a mistake for centuries," Giles cut him off. "Admit it, Quentin. You were planning to totally incarcerate Buffy, and while doing so make her unable to ever be at full slaying ability again."

Quentin had a glint in his eye that Buffy recognized as an English way of looking pissed. "Miss Summers is a threat, Rupert. She has killed a human. With her strength, speed and adeptness with weaponry, there is no telling what damage she could do."

Giles shook his head. "This has happened before, Quentin. Many people have been killed accidentally in the crossfire of the war the Slayer wages against darkness. Many other Slayers have killed people, but they still work for the Light and have been treated fairly."

"You don't think she is being treated fairly?"

"Damnit, yes!" Giles took off his glasses. Buffy recognized the movement and felt an odd chill. When he was in a mood, nothing good could come out of it. "The other Slayers were given fair trial, and sent back to work with a warning. You are treating Buffy like this because you have a particular prejudice against the girl, and -" 

"Careful, Rupert." Quentin said sharply. "You are defending a murderer. Summers is different from the other girls."

"I know," Giles said quietly.

Quentin frowned deeply. "You love the girl like a daughter. That is a terrible trait for a Watcher to have. Your emotions make you unable to see properly."

"I can see quite clear," came Giles' chilly response.

"Summers is different because she killed another Slayer, not any other person. And there was no vampire or demon at the scene of the murder, so the deceased was _not_ killed in the crossfire of a battle. Summers killed her of her own free will."

Buffy looked at her Watcher to see his reaction, but he was gone. Buffy shivered when she realized that Giles had left the building: Ripper was now in the house.

"I know that she would never, ever do that," he said in a dangerous tone that almost made Buffy scared. "You are wrong, you right little -"

Dumbledore stepped forward at that moment to intervene. "May I request something of the Council?" he asked in a clear voice. Both Travers and Giles turned to face him, their faces set. 

"I merely ask that the Council lets me, as Headmaster of the school, to treat Miss Summers as I see fit. However that may be," he said. "I shall make my own decisions regarding her behaviour and the conditions of her incarceration. It has been proven that she is, in fact, guilty; I will take it upon myself to take care of her and hopefully, she will become rehabilitated." He chuckled sadly. "Troubled youngsters are a specialty of mine."

Quentin sighed heavily. "The Council agrees to your terms, Dumbledore," he said in an even voice. "Kindly remember though, in your treatment of her, that she killed the girl closest to a sister to her in cold blood. And she is very able of doing it again. Do not forget Tom," Travers said as an afterthought. "You thought he was a good person, as well. The Slayer is rooted in darkness, and has already shown us her true colours."

Dumbledore's face didn't move at all. "Yes, Travers. Thank you." his eyes, however, had taken on their steely, cold blue again. Buffy shivered.

Then, the room swirled around her, and Buffy felt like she was floating again. She fell with a thump on a cold, marble floor. _Huh. Nice décor,_ she thought humourlessly.

She looked up and saw Dumbledore again, standing with Giles. The two men were muttering darkly, Dumbledore looking skeptical and Giles looking furious.

"There's something coming, can't you feel it?" Giles was saying persistently. "It's just too convenient. Buffy couldn't have killed someone; it's not in her nature."

"Giles," Dumbledore sighed heavily, "As much as I hate it, she told us she killed Kendra under a Veritaserum. It is impossible to fake that."

"I know, I know," bit off Giles. "But there's something I've missed. Something important. There's one tiny, tiny detail and when I find it, Buffy will be set free. I know it."

Dumbeldore shook his head. "I don't think so, Rupert. But, if you do find it, be sure to tell me. I can only hope that your theory is true."

"But it's just too convenient that the Slayer's been put away," he hissed angrily. "Something planned it. I know it."

The room swirled again, and Buffy found herself back in Dumbledore's office. Her tears were gone now. Giles.

All this time, and she'd thought that he didn't believe her. Now, after seeing that.could it be true? Was there something missing? True, there was no way to fault a Veritaserum. But what if-

Ugh. What if what, exactly? Buffy had nothing going her way. Nothing, zero, zilch. No witnesses, a genuine confession, and no alibi. Hell, she _had_ been in the room with blood all over her. But, if she had Giles.maybe things were looking up.

At least he still believed her.

&*&*& A/N

hey there everyone!!! I would like to take the time to thank my faithful reviewers..

**ff.net:**

Reese - yeah, more action is imminent. Remember, though, Angelus is coming soon.what will happen there : P

JC - coolioz, thanks laods!

Daco-FutureBF - grazie, you rock!! Here it is, give me your thoughts!

Youdontcarewhatmynameis - you got it right!!! Good job. Also, my deepest sympathies for the screen name. Sounds self-depreciating.

**Tth:**

Oh my LORD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You people on tth, I am shocked and appalled and a whole lot of other words!! I haven't got one review for the last chapter!!

Well, it musta been really, oodles of bad or you guys are just SLACK and/or mean. I mean, gimme a break!! I wrote the thing, you could at least review!!!

So, in conclusion, thank you everyone who reviewed and a huge sticking-tongue-out to the SLACKERS on tth who make me cry. Also, I am almost at 100 reviews on ff.net so PLEASE review and let me reach the milestone!

Looking forward to reviews (yeah, they're these things where you actually respond) and writing the next chapter, of course.

Now that my rant is over, REVIEW!!! -please? 


	13. Letters and Fears

Buffy stepped into the bathroom of her dorm, pulling out a fresh fluffy towel. She felt the need for a long soak. It wasn't an unhappy soak; it was a happy, resolved-something-that's-been-eating-me type soak.

She had been to the Owlery the day after she had visited Dumbledore's Pensieve – that was two days ago now, on the Wednesday. She had written a letter.

__

Dear Giles, it read.

Hey! It's me – Little miss Locked-up. I haven't written before now cuz I thought you thought that I killed Kendra. I still say I didn't do it. It was Drusilla. I came too late, and after that I staked Dru and Spike and sent Angelus to hell.

You know that, right? I would never kill a human! Killing Angelus was…it was hard enough. Lately, I've been feeling really crappy because I thought you all hated me. Then, something weird happened Before I get to that, here's what's happened..

I've been at Hogwarts for God knows how long now – it's got to be close to three months I reckon. Dumbledore doesn't seem to like me all that much at all. In the beginning, he got all cold and was kind of intimidating when I was even near him. Now, he just gets kind of sad. Anyway, I've made some friends. I'm in Slytherin, just so you know. I reckon you know a bit about Hogwarts, you being so close to Dumbles and all.

Apparently, there have been other witch/slayers before. Guess who? Darla and Drusilla! When they were humans, they went to the school! So anyway, I made friends with some people – Draco Malfoy first, he's in my house. Reminds me of Spike so much it's scary – except he has a more upper-class accent. And he's not afraid of sun. Then I met this guy called Harry Potter. He's amazing, and he's been up against this evil wizard called Zoltanord ever since he was born! We're dating now. Great guy.

One night, I had a weird dream. It was so wiggy. I dreamt that this Zolretard – whoops, Harry just came up to me and said it's Voldemort – resurrected the Master. I freaked out. Story with the Voldemort guy is that he drank some Unicorn blood. Gives immortality apparently, and can save you from death. Like a hyped-up Gatorade for the Master – being a vamp in the first place, he got really strong on top of all the power he's got going at the mo. Then, I dreamt that he killed Voldemort. 

I went to the Headmaster, and it was official – Master's back. I wouldn't be surprised if you already know that. Whoops, I forgot to say earlier: you know how Drusilla and Darla went to the school? Well, their portraits still hang on the walls in the Slytherin section and they MOVE! They also talk. Weird though, Darla didn't seem evil. Nor did Dru. Drusilla was still crazy, and they knew what was going on in the real world because of Dru's ramblings, but they weren't vampires – they just knew that the real 'thems' were.

So a while back, something happened to the portraits – Darla and Dru disappeared from them. Burned in the corner of the paintings was the Mark of the Apocalypse – the Master's Mark. What is it with Big Bads and marks? It's so lame.

You know Faith, right? Well, she got shipped off here as well. She admits that she killed a guy, though. She really did it. She seemed to lose her mind for a while, but she got it together in the end. She's as normal as could be expected now. It's nice – you know, having a slayer around again. Like, a sister I never grew up with.

So just when my life is good, guess what happens? Two people turn up as 'exchange students'. Drusilla and Darla. Except, they're sort of human. I know, I know, I staked them both. I don't really understand how they're back, but they remember being bad and everything, but they aren't all blood-sucking and they can walk in sun and everything. They're alive, and Dumbledore has accepted them as students.

It was Darla's idea, actually, for me to have a Veritaserum. So, I rocked up to the Headmaster's office (which by the way is way better than Snyder's) and asked why I wasn't given one in his trial. He got really sad and kinda angry – not angry at me, sort of more on my behalf? I'm not sure. Anyway, he said I did get a Veritaserum, but the tranquillizer I was under made me forget it. I went for a trip in his Pensieve and saw the whole thing firsthand.

I also saw that you believed in me. I won't forget it. Do Xander and Willow think it was me? My mom, Oz, Cordy? God, I hope not. I think something's missing. The questioning, there was something they didn't ask. I just don't know what it is…

Giles, I promise I will prove I'm innocent. Please, tell the others it wasn't me – it'd mean a lot to me. 

Lots of love, 

Buffy.

Well, that was the letter. She hadn't got a reply yet, but she figured it could take a while for the school owl she borrowed to fly around the world and back. That birdie was SO getting some of those owl treats when it got back. 

After writing it, Buffy felt much more at peace. Okay, so now most of her issues were resolved. The concerns she had when she first came here – and since then – were being fixed up nicely.

She had friends, for starters. Okay, so she only really had five – three of which were murderers. They were still friends. She had a boyfriend: that one was a huge Godsend. She really didn't know what to do if it weren't for Harry. She had a new start, and the people she loved back home were going to believe her. Oh yeah, life rocked.

She only hoped that the whole Angel thing would pan out okay. What would Harry say if Faith or one of the others let slip that she slept with a vampire? He'd hate her…It wouldn't happen. No one would spill her secret.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Lunch time at Hogwarts was a loud affair. Buffy sat with Malfoy, Faith, Darla and Drusilla at the Slytherin table, making faces at Harry who still sat at the Gryffindor table. Harry was blowing kisses to his blonde girlfriend, and Buffy was teasing him by draping her arm across Malfoy's shoulders. When Harry looked properly cut, she winked at him.

It was all a lot of fun. Harry was joking with Seamus and Dean while Ron and Hermione looked on hopefully, praying that they were getting their friend back. In the last week, he was getting more and more like his old self. 

Buffy was about to stand, wanting to talk with Harry at his table. Just as she was putting down her fork, there was a small shriek from behind the door that led to the dungeons. She whipped around, but there was no one there. The rest of the Hall carried on eating as if nothing had happened. She turned to Faith, who was next to her. 

"Did you hear that?" she said in a low tone. Faith looked concerned. 

"You too? I thought it was just me."

Darla tapped Faith on the shoulder. "Sounded like a young girl. You'd better go find out who it is."

Buffy nodded, standing up. She strolled towards the door with Faith, both looking like they had finished their meals and were going back to their rooms. They opened the door and walked a few steps before a tiny first-year Gryffindor came racing up to them, throwing her arms around Faith's midsection.

"Help me, please," she whimpered. "There was a – a -"

Buffy narrowed her eyes, feeling for the stake she always kept in the waistband of her skirt, hidden under the expansive robe. "What was it, sweetie?" she said encouragingly.

The girl swallowed. "It was a big, big spider thing. As big as a dog, with sharp claws and teeth. It _looked_ like a spider, but it was hard like a crab's shell. And it was fast. It almost bit me. I ran away, and then there was another one, and another, and…" She broke off, shaking. Buffy caught a look at the girl's face; she was totally white. The spider thing must have frightened her a lot.

Harry appeared out of nowhere with Malfoy in tow. "It's okay, Sarah," he said comfortingly, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder. The little girl let go of Faith like she had a disease and clung on to Harry's robe.

"Harry, you have to kill it! Please, please help me…" Faith raised an eyebrow. Harry was the wizard hero, obviously. He rubbed the girl's back.

"It's okay, Sarah. I won't let it hurt you. You should go inside now with everyone else."

Sarah nodded fearfully, sniffing. "I've seen them before, in a book," she said in a shaky voice to her saviour. "I've had nightmares sometimes. But I've never seen one real before. I opened a cupboard, and it jumped out at me." With that, she scuttled off into the Great Hall.

Buffy ran a hand through her hair. "Wow. The thing must have scared the crap outta her."

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Sounded like a Boggart to me. Jumped out of a cupboard? And if she's having nightmares, then it's probably what it is."

Faith screwed up her nose. "Boggart? What's that?"

Malfoy shrugged. "It's a magical creature that's kind of evil. It takes on the appearance of the greatest fear of the person it's closest to."

Buffy narrowed her eyes. "A fear demon? I've fought a fear demon that preyed on little kids before. That one was invisible to everyone but the kids who were sick with fever. Those were his victims."

Harry shook his head. "It isn't a demon, it's a magical creature. There's a difference. And this one takes on different appearances, so it could be _anything._ So, if you see your greatest fear at any given stage, give us a yell. That'll be the Boggart."

Faith shivered. "Creepy. Let's beat this thing to the ground."

Buffy tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. "Last time I was fighting the Master, there was a thing where everyone's worst nightmares were coming true. A little boy was stuck in his own nightmare, and everyone else's worst fears came true."

Harry looked at her over his glasses. "Buff, chill. It's a Boggart. No big."

Buffy coloured. "Okay, it's just…I've been through the whole 'fear' thing before, is all."

The four of them started a search of the dungeons. As they walked, Buffy talked with Harry. "Why do I get the impression that you've battled one before?"

He nodded with a smile. Buffy was so perceptive of others. "Yeah. In my third year, we studied them in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Mine turned into a Dementor."

Buffy felt a chill. If Harry's greatest fear wasn't Zoltanord, the guy who killed his parents, then the Dementor would have to be pretty scary. "What's a Dementor?" she said, hesitant to ask.

Harry paused, swallowing. "They're these magical creatures. They looked kind of humanoid, with arms and legs and heads the same. But they wear these long robes, with hoods that cover their faces. Basically, what they do is suck out happiness from people. They can do that just by being in the same building as you. They don't ever make a sound, it's unnerving."

Buffy shivered, rubbing the goosebumps that were up and down her arms. "That's tough."

"They take away every single memory you have of being happy and warm and loved, and all you can do is remember the bad things. The people who died, how you were to blame, the falling-outs with friends, the bad things your family says to you…you dwell on the bad things."

Buffy felt a lump in her throat. "But they're not demons? You can't just…kill them?"

Harry shook his head heavily. "No. And when you actually see what's under their hoods…" he shuddered. "They're just disgusting. Their skin is all scabby and rotting, and they don't have faces. Just a big, gaping hole for a mouth. They don't use it to speak or eat. They use it for the Dementor's Kiss."

Buffy was getting a bit wigged now. "What's that? Cuz I wouldn't want to be kissing anything like that."

Harry smiled grimly. "They perform the Dementor's Kiss in Azkaban, for those who've really, really done wrong. It's when the Dementor lifts his hood and puts his mouth on a human's, and sucks out their soul. It doesn't kill you, but you're left just as…just as a shell. That's it. Not moving, talking, feeling. Just being."

Buffy felt like she was going to pass out. They actually did that? How terrible!

Harry shook his head, trying to clear out unpleasant thoughts. "So, that's my fear. What about you, Buffy?" she felt herself going pink.

"Bats. They scare the hell outta me," She zinged, and didn't elaborate. Harry laughed uncertainly. Was she serious?

A voice came out of nowhere and Buffy nearly wet herself, she was so on edge. It was Professor Dumbledore, magnifying his voice.

"Would all students please come to the Great Hall immediately."

Buffy glanced at Harry, and they both sped into the Great Hall. There was a fourth-year boy looking like he was in shock. Someone was holding a bandage to his throat, where a trickle of blood was staining his white school shirt. "A vampire," he said tonelessly, like he dare not believe it himself. "He just appeared. I in the forest, and he bit me…"

Harry pulled Buffy towards the Headmaster, who was looking concerned. "That's _why_ the forest is forbidden," he was muttering to himself as the seventh-years showed up.

"Professor," Harry said smoothly. "I think there's a Boggart loose on the grounds. A first-year Gryffindor saw something she's been having nightmares about just before now."

Dumbledore nodded. "I know, Mister Potter. Professor Wilkins has been out for the last half hour trying to catch the Boggart."

Buffy slowed. A vampire? Okay, the boy said 'he' quite clearly. Darla and Dru were in the clear. It must have been a Boggart, then.

"Professor Dumbledore," Buffy said in a straightforward manner, "Harry and I could help catch it. May we have permission to hunt for it?"

Dumbledore nodded. "I was hoping you two'd offer to assist us," he said seriously. "Very well. You two see if the Boggart is still in the forest."

Harry nodded. He took Buffy's arm and together they walked towards the door leading to the Entrance Hall. They were about halfway there when the door creaked open.

The Hall fell silent as they looked towards to newcomer. Some of the girls started giggling. He was hot! Strong, well-built…looks like an angel. Buffy froze. 

The newcomer folded his arms across his chest, smirking smugly. Not even Malfoy could beat that smirk. It was just so…so…_cold_. At the same time, incredibly seductive. 

Harry narrowed his eyes as he noticed his girlfriend's reaction. "Who's this guy?" he asked, as the rest of the school watched.

"My ex. The Boggart."

The stranger smirked even more so. "Hello lover," he drawled. 

Harry reached for his wand and realized with a lurch of his stomach that it was missing. Damn! How come every time he really, desperately needed it, he was without it?! He looked back at the stranger, Buffy's ex, and felt another lurch when he saw the long, brown wand in his hand. Oh yeah. Déjà vu. This was uncannily like that time in second year with Tom Riddle. Except, he knew what the deal with Riddle was. This guy, he had no idea. 

Buffy shook her head. "No," she whispered. How many nights had she woken up in a cold sweat, shaking all over after a nightmare? They were always different. 

Sometimes he was dancing with her, and he would turn. In others he would stake Harry, and Harry would turn to dust. In some, Harry would be laughing, and then his face would morph into Angelus' game face.

She felt her breaths coming faster. "No. No, no, no." she took a step backwards, her eyes wide. "This isn't happening. You're a Boggart."

Angelus shrugged, twirling the wand expertly between his fingers. "What's wrong, Buff? Do I scare you?"

Dumbledore stepped forward. "Miss Summers, it is only a fear. DO not let it overtake y-"

"_Petrificus totalus_!" roared Angelus. The Headmaster stopped mid-sentence, shock on his face. He completely froze, from head to toe, and toppled over. There was a loud thumping noise like dominoes as every single person in the Hall save Buffy and Angelus froze. Several people who were standing fell to the ground, frozen also. Harry watched helplessly from the ground as the stranger smirked smugly. The whole Hall stared frozen at the two people left.

Buffy blanched. "Oh my God. No way. This is not happening. You're not even you!"

Angelus sighed with a beatific smile. "Aren't I?" he asked winningly. He pointed his wand over at the Slytherin table. "_Finite Incantatem._" Two figures emerged. 

"Well, my boy, it's good to see you again." Darla purred. She looked him up and down. "Been awhile, hasn't it?"

Angelus licked his lips hungrily, his brown eyes boring into hers. "It's been a lifetime."

Dru stepped forward. "Oh glories! My daddy has returned! What marvelous games we shall play."

Angelus smiled at his favourite daughter. "You know it, sweetheart."

"So, Buff. Here we are. It's passion that rules us. We've had a lot of passion togeth-"

He ducked to avoid Buffy's swipe at his head. He took a step back, started, as the slayer hefted a sword she had transfigured. "Don't you DARE," she hissed. 

Angelus' eyes narrowed. "Hell hath no fury, Buff," he taunted, and grabbed a sword that before now was decoration on the wall. 

He swung towards her and thrusted forward, only to have the small slayer parry his move. She pushed his sword aside and slashed diagonally, but again he defended her attack. They began the dance once more. 

Buffy and Angelus were completely ignorant of everyone in the hall watching them as they reenacted their last fight. Their blades hummed a deadly rhythm as they thrust parried, slashed and hooked; each seemed to know the other's move before they made it. They manoeuvred each other round and round the tables. Angelus pushed her thrust aside and held her sword down with his own as he punched out viciously at her face. She recoiled with a hand to her cheek, tasting blood. 

__

'It's blood that makes us, it's blood that binds us.'

She hadn't tasted her own blood for a while now.

__

Slayer's blood. 

She scowled. "You know, Angel, this is really getting old. Move on!"

Angelus snarled, leaping up onto a table and slicing down with such force that the sword in Buffy's hand shuddered upon impact. She tried not to gasp as the shuddering jarred her arm to its core. "My name is Angelus, slayer," he laughed.

Buffy winced as his blade nicked her shoulder. "Come off it. I killed you, buddy. I sent your sorry ass to hell!"

He snorted. "No way. You used magic, lover. It wasn't you. It was something else."

Darla looked pissed. "Oh yes, and I'm _ever _so pleased you had to bring that up. "

Angelus looked towards her, and blinked. He lowered his sword in puzzlement. "Huh?"

"You killed me. You slept with the enemy. You owe me." Angelus looked almost…remorseful. "Every time you call her lover, you're getting yourself in deeper shit with me. And don't fight Buffy!" She commanded. 

In all the years he had lived/unlived, Darla was the one person/creature of the night that he always listened to. She was his goddess, and now his goddess was confusing him. "Okay, I get that you're pissed because of me killing you and sleeping with the slayer, but why can't I fight?"

Darla put out her hand, eyes narrowed. Angelus glared at the slayer furiously and handed over his sword. "Because I say so. We're on the same page. Buffy and I are…" She looked towards Buffy, who had the beginning of a smile on her face.

"We have a some things in common. A lot, actually. We're friends." 

A pin could have dropped and been heard. Angelus blinked. "Really? You're not just shitting me?"

Buffy shrugged. "We get on pretty well, actually. So, yeah."

Angelus looked unconcerned. "Suits me. I'm so over the whole 'kill the slayer' thing. I just wanted a good fight. Haven't had one since last week with that Hell Goddess." He shoved his hands in his pockets, standing arrogantly. "Funny story. Involved a crusade." 

Buffy was now starting to look confused. "Okay," she said uncertainly, "Can you please let my friends up? Harry, the blonde guy down there and the brunette girl he's next to?"

At Darla's nod, Angelus released them from their body bind. None seemed too eager to do anything. "So! Um…this is Harry, he's my boyfriend, blonde's Malfoy and she's Faith, the other slayer. People, meet my ex. Angelus."

Harry was frozen. "Only you, Buff. Bats my ass."

Darla looked pleased at how the situation was going and stalked over to her childe. "Liam," she said with rapture. "I think it's time we had a proper reunion, darling boy."

He growled deep in his throat and grabbed her with one hand, pulling her viciously towards him. His other hand was weaving through her strawberry blonde hair, and he bent her backwards as he assaulted her mouth. He bit almost clean through her bottom lip, and she just moaned. He paused only to rearrange himself and start sucking on her neck. 

Buffy noted carefully that he didn't vamp-out: this was among the good. Still, seeing her ex-honey totally necking Darla was something she could have done without.

She coughed awkwardly. "So…um, I'm guessing he's not a Boggart."

Harry had his eyes narrowed. "Apparently not." 

Faith looked impressed. "Damn, he really knows how to push a girl's buttons," she said, winking at Buffy. Harry scowled deeper. "How'd they stay together for so long? I eman, they must have been together now for, like, hundreds of years. It's a marathon romance."

"Simple, kiddies," came an arrogant drawl from behind her. "She gave him part of herself, he gave her a lot of himself. They've shared each other's life. It's the same with Dru and I."

Drusilla whooped as Spike stood leaning casually against the Entrance Hall door, arms folded across his chest. The cockney vampire was wearing his trademark outfit: black t-shirt, red shirt hanging open, long black leather jacket, tight black leather pants and combat boots. He had recently acquired a silver necklace that hung down his chest. Spike was standing next to the newly-appeared Professor Wilkins, who was grinning as always. He waved his wand, and memory-charmed everyone in the Hall who was still frozen. Buffy put down her sword as Spike leered inside. 

"Love isn't brains, children, it's blood."

&*&*&

A/N

Okay!! This is dedicated to ashenem, who chastised me into moving my sorry ass and finish writing this. Really, I just had a bit to go, but then he/she reminded me how late I was and I wrote it sharpish.

Thanks also to Justine Tiamat, Reese, Deke777, freewheeler30 (uh…okay…thanks) and to Shy. Yo, Shy! It's a fanfic! And I said in the summary that Harry was OOC. Thanks loads guys! I made it to 100 reviews!

Cutiepie: you said some things about Harry never acting as mean as he is. I have a plan to explain that; it's part of the plot. It's actually a large feature, so watch this space! If you're concerned about him being OOC, and other people who are as well, just wait a while. It'll be made clear at some stage…when I get round that that part of the story….

So thanks to everyone who reviewed! Come on people at TTH, I value your opinion! Hey, if anyone else has a question, don't hesitate to ask.


	14. Daggers and Curtains

A/N

_Beta Reader wanted!!_

 Does anyone want to be my beta? puppydog eyes I get a lot of questions from readers - what makes sense to me doesn't to others…I don't have a beta for any of my stories…..I did for, like, a month in 2002 but she abandoned me. Is anyone really interested in being my beta for my two stories, help me write and edit? Make decisions, get the story together? Blushespush me along, write faster? Actually, it'd be best if you've read both stories and been with them for a while (both found on ff.net), but most of the work would be with Princess of Sin. If interested, please write in a review, because my email will reject all addresses if you send directly to me. Thanks loads!

RoseRiddle

&*&*&

Professor Richard Wilkins, Mayor of Sunnydale, beamed. He often did. Beaming was a much more effective trademark that scowling, he had decided, after seeing countless Big Bads go for the 'I'm so evil and immoral' smirk. Unless pulled off perfectly, like Angelus and Spike managed to, it was just unoriginal. He cleared his throat. "Headmaster, I found the Boggart while out in the forest. It's gone now."

The Headmaster got to his feet, looking slightly surprised. "Boggart? I…" he trailed off, his brow knitting. Realisation dawning at last, he made an 'ooh' shape with his mouth beneath the long, white beard. "The Boggart! Of course. Excellent. And who might your new guests be, Richard?" the Headmaster's eyes widened slightly. Severus Snape struggled to his feet, confused.

"Miss Aurelius! Kindly extricate yourself from that stranger and explain yourself!"

Darla pulled away from Angelus slowly, nipping his bottom lip and smirking at his erratic, unnecessary breathing. Love, lust…it was all the same to them.

"Professors, this is my darling Liam, and he- " she gestured vaguely at Spike, who was staring transfixed at the dark vampiress, "-is William, Drusilla's boyfriend. They both came to visit for a surprise."

The rest of the school had been unfrozen, and the younger students giggled as many of the girls in the higher grades sighed dreamily at the hot newcomers, some others glaring furiously at Darla in particular. How'd she hook a sex-god like that? Damn, she got everything!

Buffy was staring open-mouthed, really, immeasurably glad that she'd put the swords back where they belonged before the rest of the hall was unfrozen. Everyone except Angelus, Spike, Dru, Darla, Harry, Malfoy, Faith and herself seemed totally unaware of the fight and conversation that had just gone down. Oh, and Wilkins of course. He was the one who had memory-charmed the Hall. Dumbledore and everyone else carried on right where they left off, without the recollection of a fight!

This also meant that they were unaware of the whole vampire-ness of the strangers. To the teachers and students, they were just a pair of sweet (possibly rather sexually frustrated) guys who wanted to see their girlfriends. Cute.

Buffy looked over at the one person she _wished_ had been memory charmed most of all. Harry looked back at her, his face unreadable. 

"Harry, I, uh…" She tried to speak, but couldn't find anything to say. 

He shrugged. "The boggart's gone now. I'm off." With that curt statement, he turned on his heel and swept out of the Great Hall, his robes swirling behind him. Buffy felt her face flush as Angelus and Darla looked at her. She smiled weakly at them. 

"Huh. So, that was the new guy." Angelus said, nodding to himself. He looked on the verge of saying something else, but Darla's mouth got in the way before he could say it. 

Buffy felt like saying something on behalf of her absent boyfriend, but thought against it. Hell, if he isn't here I'm not gonna talk well of him.

"Yeah, that's him." Faith and Dru were edging closer. Buffy rolled her eyes. "Faith, meet Angelus. You know, the thing attached to Darla."

Darla pulled away. "Hey!" she protested, looking distinctly bruised and…_nipped?_…around the mouth area. She opened her mouth to protest, but saw that the whole school was hanging onto their every word, some of the professors going purple in a way that was DEFINITELY not from too much kissing. Or, not on their part, at least. _It is intolerable to have students acting in such an inappropriate disrespectful manner, especially in the Great Hall with a stranger…_Yada, yada, yada. Darla snorted silently. Snape was such a bore.

Professor Dumbledore was looking very baffled. Didn't Darla Aurelius just say the mysterious dark-haired youth's name was Liam? Despite this, Buffy introduced him as 'Angelus'. The name had quite a history. And since when did Buffy Summers know Darla's boyfriend? And how in the world did they get into the school in the first place? 

Hogwarts is unplottable, so they couldn't have used a map…obviously, they weren't muggles, since they found the place on their own…unless someone else led them, they must at least have _some_ magical talent, and know about the school, not to mention its location. 

Darla was eyeing the Headmaster, who was looking more and more perplexed by the moment. It was a happy perplexed, though. Albus Dumbeldore was never one to back down from a good riddle. So to speak. Tom Riddles proved a problem, but normal riddles were no issue. The old man saw them as an academic challenge, just asking to be solved. Darla felt a smile tugging at her mouth. The man liked to be confused, and she wasn't about to burst his bubble and enlighten him.  She cleared her throat. 

"Erm…I'd love to continue this discussion, and by discussion I mean pashing, but perhaps we can change venue? To our dorm, maybe, where I don't feel like a zoo?"

Angelus gave Darla a squeeze. "I like that plan," his voice a low, seductive rumble in her ear. "And might I mention? –I love it when you go all Catholic schoolgirl." She smirked and leant in to his warm embrace.

How long had it been since she was last in his arms? And how much long when his embrace was warm? Darla felt tingly inside. Last time had been when she turned him. That was centuries ago…She felt butterflies in her stomach. She wasn't completely human, but God, this was close enough!

Her heart was beating erratically, even if it didn't have to for her to live. That was the trick to the spell: it looked and felt like she was human, even if she wasn't. They all ate normal food, and went in the sun, and were warm and breathed regularly and had beating hearts. Take all that away though, and they wouldn't just die like a vampire in the sun or a human without a pulse. The trick was that it was just that: an illusion.

She smiled at Angelus, leading him away towards the Slytherin rooms, the other (minus Harry) in tow. Angelus spared a wink for Wilkins before turning to Dumbledore quickly. "Thanks for letting us stay," he said before stalking away. The Headmaster blinked. Since when did he authorize that? Huh, and all this time he thought he had beaten senility… 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Faith and Buffy sat on the armchairs in the Slytherin common room. 

"So," Buffy said. She started to say something else, but shrugged and went back to sharpening her stake. 

Faith sat next to her, polishing a long dagger. She was grinning like a Cheshire cat. 

Buffy continued. "I guess Angelus and Darla are happy…and Spike and Dru…have I mentioned that I'm not comfortable with Angel – Angelus, whatever – being happy? Ever? Cuz, you know, last time he got happy it didn't work out well."

Faith threw back her head and laughed heartily. "Hate to break it to ya, B, but Angelus and Darlz haven't done the horizontal tango for ages. My guess is he's going through a helluva lot of happy right now."

Buffy squirmed. "Yeah, thanks for the image, Faith," she mumbled. Faith snorted.

"Face it, B. They're banging like rusty dunny doors." Buffy turned to look at her questioningly.

"Where did _that_ come from? Not even Xander would come up with something like that."

Faith looked surprised at herself. "Yeah, I don't know why I said that either. An ex boyfriend I had was Australian; he used to use Aussie slang like that. Sounds weird to me too." She beamed unrepentantly. "Aussie guys rock. So fit. And those accents!"

Buffy felt a smile creep across her face. "Yeah, I get that," she said, trying not to think about her ex in the next room. "Gotta admit, though, Irish accents do something for me too."

Faith nodded in agreement, chewing on some gum. She noted silently that Buffy didn't mention English accents. She leaned back against the dark green leather and put her feet up on the table, grimacing when her short pleated skirt threatened to fall up.

"This whole outfit really does nothing for me." Faith grumbled absently. There was a period of silence where the two did some more weapons maintenance. After a few moments, Faith felt like she was going to explode.

"Are you going to tell me or what?" Faith said finally, narrowing her dark lined eyes to glare at the blonde.

"And I would be telling you what, exactly?" Buffy asked, although she thought she knew already.

"What it felt like to have Angelus – Angel – back here, talking to you. Seems to me that there was a whole lotta belly-rumblin' tension there."

Bufy felt the knot in her stomach loosen a little as she began to talk about how she felt. "It was tough," she started hesitantly. "I mean, we have a lot of unresolved issues. I keep telling myself that it isn't _my_ Angel, just the demon that owns his ass." 

She stopped a bit, frowning. "It's confusing! I mean, I'm not sure what I should do. This is Angelus, Scourge of Europe, mortal enemy Number One. I should stake him, right?"

She looked to Faith for guidance, and she shrugged. "Yeah, s'pose you should," she agreed. "But there's more to it than that."

Buffy rolled her eyes, running a finger along her dagger. "That's just it. If he were Angelus, plain and simple, I'd have to kill him. But he's alive – well, sorta. And he makes Darla happy, and she's my friend. Can he even drink anyone?"

Faith gave a crooked smirk. "You can bet Mr Pointy that he's drinking Darla right now," she said plainly.

Buffy snorted, blushing a bit. "I mean feed on someone else, dumbass. If he goes all vampy, I'll stake his oh-so-shapely ass."    

Faith looked at her sharply. "You still see him like that?" She asked. "You're still attracted to him?"

Buffy coloured. "I, uh…" she broke off. Remembering Willow, she tried out her best resolve face. "He's evil. No interest in him anymore. Faith, I have Harry, don't I? Why would I want psycho-killing-guy?"

Faith shrugged, and went back to her work. 

Harry was a nice guy. He and Buffy had a good relationship, but he was kind of…missing. He was an apple short of the picnic.

Faith had been around. There was no other way to put it. She had her fair share of relationships and, contrary to popular belief, some had actually lasted a while. She knew a good relationship when she saw one, and had a lot of intuition. It stemmed from a more than a healthy amount of experience.

After awhile she looked back up at her sister slayer. "Something's not right, is it?" She ventured. "With Harry, I mean."

Buffy gave a start. "Why would you say that?" she asked carefully.

Faith rolled her eyes and swung around to face the blonde. She took the dagger out of her hands and looked her in the eye. "Buffy, I'm your best friend. Here, anyway. We're sisters. You can't weasel out of the question; I can see right through you. Something's off, I can tell."

Buffy's shoulders slumped. "You're right," she said reluctantly. "I thought we were good, Harry and me. But now, with An- " she stopped herself, took a breath and continued. "Angelus coming back, there are all these feelings that are flooding back. I don't know what to think or feel. Of course, I'd never do anything. Angelus and me? I don't think so," she said wryly, with a hint of regret. "Also, Darlz would kick my ass." She added as an afterthought.

Faith nodded in understanding, ignoring the comment about Darla. "I get what you mean."

She sat back. "Hey – B?"

"Yeah?"

"If, just now, it wasn't Angelus who walked through the door…what if it had been Angel? What would you have done, even with Harry there?"

Buffy was silent, her eyes downcast. Faith felt her heart pounding in her chest. Buffy didn't speak, but her silence spoke volumes.

The answer was obvious.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Joyce Summers juggled the groceries and boxes from the gallery in her arms while trying to fish her keys out of her jacket pocket. She hummed an odd tune she heard on the radio that morning as she opened the door and bustled inside to the kitchen, where she dumped her paper bags on the counter. She was just about to make a cup of tea when she was pushed off her feet by a lanky, dark-haired youth.

"Ooh, chocolate!" he exclaimed, rifling through the bags and only finding vegetables and shampoo. He turned his sad face towards her, making puppy-dog eyes. "What, no sugary goodness?"

Joyce smiled wryly. "No, Xander. None today. Really, I don't know how you stay so lean. You teenagers can eat anything!"

Alexander LaVelle Harris shrugged, smiling. "Gift of the hormones," he quipped before being bowled over by Cordelia.

"Not for me. I have to work to be beautiful. It's a responsibility I have to the public of Sunnydale High." Cordy said loftily, sweeping in regally to stand alongside Joyce. 

"Anyway, Mrs Summers, I just came to pick up a few weapons from Buffy's room." She smiled briefly before starting to head up the stairs of the Summers home. Despite the absence of the blondest Summers, the house on Revello Drive was still slayer central.   

Joyce blinked at the mention of Buffy. She missed her daughter a lot. When Buffy had run away from home, it had shattered her. Had she reacted too harshly? If any other mother had a bombshell of the 'slayer' dropped on her, not to mention been enlightened about the whole other world that existed after dark, would she have reacted differently? Joyce prayed she was right. She had given Buffy an ultimatum, and Buffy left. 

 Xander felt the tension in the air, and felt it his duty to remedy it. "Yeah, so. We're done now. I'll see you tomorrow, Joyce." He smiled warmly, wished her goodnight, and ushered Cordelia out the door. Joyce stayed where she was,  wishing her daughter would come home.

Xander sighed heavily, taking the chest of weapons from Cordelia. He walked along in companionable silence for a while, until Cordy reluctantly turned to him. "I feel so bad whenever we mention Buffy to her. She should know, Xander."

Xander groaned. "I know what you mean. But what are we supposed to tell her? 'Hey, Joyce, your firstborn's a convicted killer and is locked up in a magical school in England. The dude who killed her is back and kicking as well, thought you'd like to know. By the way, isn't the weather nice?' Wouldn't go down well."

Cordy quirked her mouth to the side. "Yeah, I get that. It's just tough, that's all. Every day, she's just thinking that her kid doesn't love her and is lying dead in a ditch somewhere. Truth is, we can't tell her where Buffy is…what she's accused of…" She shook her head. "The only one of us with a parent who _does_ care, and she thinks her daughter hates her."

 Xander shuffled along the sidewalk. "Sometimes, I used to wish I had Joyce for a mom…."

Cordelia nodded. "I know what you mean."

They had reached Cordelia's house. The cheerleader leaned over and gave her boyfriend a kiss on the cheek, before pulled her jumper down over her bruised forearms from that night's battle and stepping inside.

"I'll see you tomorrow first period, Xander," she said.

Xander grinned goofily at her. "Ok. Oh, and don't forget – we're babysitting Dawn tomorrow night!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Darla groaned, opening her eyes a crack. The sun was beating down on her face. It didn't burn, but it was bright anyway. Darla yawned loudly, rolling over and landing on something fleshy and warm and…_Angelus._

She grinned widely, looking up at him. If a girl's best light was candlelight and the moon, Darla had to admit that sunlight did wonders for her boy. He was smiling, leaning on his hand, propped up on the pillow by his elbow.

"Morning, lover," he whispered softly, kissing her jugular vein. Darla laughed, cupping his cheek to kiss him passionately. "Did you sleep well?"

Darla smirked at him. "Barely a wink, and it's all your fault," she said flirtingly, and leaned back against the pillows. She pushed forward and put her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his warm arms around her, and she breathed in his scent.

"I have class," she muttered absently, "but I think I'd learn more staying right here, don't you?"

Angelus chuckled; Darla felt the deep rumble within his chest. "I couldn't agree with you more, Princess."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Buffy paled. "Really, sir, she said she was feeling sick this morning. Spewing everywhere."

Faith nodded vigorously. "Yeah. It was uber nasty. She was really in a bad way, and that's why Darlz couldn't make it to your Potions exam." 

Severus Snape glowered at them. "I don't particularly care what you have to say. Miss Aurelius is absent and did not show for the exam. She is in MY house and if she is sick she should be in the Hospital Wing with a note from Madame Pomfrey."

He made his way towards the door.

For the love of Merlin, he thought furiously, did they really think he was that stupid? The bloody girl's boyfriend had arrived yesterday, and not only was he missing during the night but she didn't arrive to class the next morning. It didn't take a genius to figure out what _they_ did last night. Miss Edith was probably guilty of the same offence, but at the very least Drusilla had turned up to her exam. Even if her gentleman friend had tailed along.

He was enraged that Summers and Morgan had the cheek to lie bare-faced to him. He was a Professor, for God's sake! He ignored their protests.

"Really, sir, it smells pukey. You don't want to go in."

"Yeah. And she's probably in the shower – or just out of it – she may not be decent…"

"She's too sick, you may catch it too -"

He pushed open the empty portrait and swooped over to Darla's bed. He ripped back the curtains with relish.

Buffy shut her eyes from the doorway, but still heard Darla's response to the intrusion. 

"Shit."

&*&*&

A/N

Bit shorter, but a lot's happening. Both in story and real life – exam block. IMPORTANT: yes, I just put in DAWNIE!! Guess what people? I'm changing her age. Not sure when….I need to think about that. 

Many thanks to Reese, Catriona, buffyx, Draco-FutureBF, blondi gurl (tried to answer your question), x2love4ever.

Ashenem- aaaaaw but I wanna! It's not set in stone, but something's planned with angel….

Hey, seriously, I need a good beta who knows about both stories to help me with getting the stories up. I have the plots, I need opinions before I write and after to check. Anyone?? 

THANKS!


	15. Cauldrons and Secrets

A/N

Okay, you guys have held out long enough. Here's some insight into my pairings:

**NO Spuffy**. Sorry, I just don't want it in this fic. I'm a B/A writer at heart. Spike will be paired with Dru, that is all.

MANY people dislike me making it Buffy/Angel, but can you hold out a little longer please? I'm gonna do something **very** different with Angel/us. Wait and see!!! Even if you don't like it usually, hang around and you'll see it's twisty enough to be just a little more than mediocre (not to blow my own horn. I'm just proud of having this sick, twisted idea that you'll LOVE!) I promise –it WON'T be fluffy sop. No way.

So, basically, we're gonna have to dump Harry. He's turning mean slowly, has anyone noticed? And Angelus doesn't seem that bad actually…in a sadistic way, he's one of my faves. So, stick around, wait til my pairings get interesting.

#BEGIN#

&*&*&

Buffy groaned as she chipped another petrified slug shell from the inside of the cauldron she was scouring. Faith was kneeling beside her, tutting as she checked out the damage to her nails.

Darla was beside them, as was Angelus. Buffy stole a look at him and saw him throw a filthy look at the filthy desk he was supposed to be cleaning with a filthy toothbrush. He then glared at the Professor again.

"No way, batman. You're missing the point. I. Don't. Clean."

Snape glowered, and seemed to grow taller. "Listen, Mr- "

"Liam Nest," Darla offered, thinking fast. She couldn't remember Angelus's name from when he was human. When the pair of them had visited Europe last time he was Angelus, back when he was the Scourge of Europe, they had often stayed in expensive hotels and in palaces under the guise of 'Lord and Lady Aurelius'. Darla almost told Snape that Angelus's name was Liam Aurelius, but she remembered that they were supposed to be normal girlfriend and normal boyfriend. Thus, it would be a bit inappropriate if the school staff thought they were a married couple.

Darla suppressed a snort. Married? No way. For her to be married to her darling boy, God would have to approve the union. There was a snowball's chance in hell of that happening. They were married in the eyes of a certain Joseph Heinrich Nest, however, and he was of the Order of Aurelius. A sire's blessing, to a vampire, was just as powerful.

"Mr _Nest_," Snape growled, "-must learn his place. If he is to stay at Hogwarts, he must follow my rules. Miss Aurelius, as a student it was most inappropriate for you to undertake such…nocturnal…activities as you did last night. You missed your exam and swore to me, your Professor."

Darla threw her hands up. "_I'm_ not arguing with _my_ detention!" she cried. "Look! I'm cleaning cauldrons and everything." To prove her point, she picked up a toothbrush and began to scrub with a sarcastic smile on her face. 

Snape huffed, glaring at Angelus. "Mr Nest," he ground out. "You stay in my part of the castle, you follow my rules. Scrub. NOW."

Angelus bared his teeth in a ferocious smile. Darla watched the uncertainty flicker in Professor Snape's eyes. It was like he felt compelled to take a step backwards, but decided against it. Instead, Snape glared at Angelus and puffed up, like those little fish do when they're threatened. Interesting – her boy unsettled him. 

Angelus could smell the fear coming off this man too. Funny, Darla mused. He didn't look like he was scared; to someone who couldn't sense fear as well as a vampire, he looked angry. Snape covered his fear well, with hostility. "As you wish, Professor." Angelus said in a mocking voice. 

Snape nodded curtly, stepping out of the room.

Buffy coughed to suppress a giggle. Faith caught her eye and started to turn pink, trying not to laugh. She failed, characteristically; Faith threw her head back to cackle like a real witch should. Angelus threw them both another filthy look. He did that look like a pro.

"I don't clean." He said again flatly, dropping the toothbrush.

Buffy shook her head, unable to resist tweaking him just a bit. "You do the dirty, you clean the cauldron," she said in a light, taunting voice. Then, her eyebrows lowered. "And Faith and I are stuck in here 'cuz of you."

Faith dropped her sponge with a –_splat_- and then glared menacingly. "Yeah. We were covering for you two, and now we have to clean as well! You owe us big," she concluded with relish.

Darla shrugged, scrubbing at a difficult patch of…well, she didn't know what. It was pretty ick, anyway, and smelled revolting. "Can't help it if you want to lie for me," she said sweetly.

Angelus stared into her eyes. "It was worth it," he said with a seductive smirk and a predatory gleam in his eye that a blind man would recognize. Darla had seen it _a lot_.

Buffy wrinkled her nose. "Eww," she muttered. "And here I was, thinking that scrubbing cauldrons was upsetting."

Angelus rolled his eyes, watching the girls clean for a while. Darla's gaze flickered over to him. He appeared to be counting to ten under his breath. "Come _on_!" he exclaimed suddenly, kicking out at cauldron in his impatience. Buffy looked confused, but Darla sighed, rolling her head on her shoulders. 

"I know what you mean," she said in a low tone, taking a deep breath. Faith narrowed her eyes. 

"Are you two talking dirty again? In code or something kinky like that?" she asked, ever the Queen of Blunt. "Cuz I'm feeling suspicious."

Darla closed her eyes. "No, Faith," she said patronizingly. Opening her eyes, she cast around for her now despised scourer and resumed the tedious talk of scrubbing cauldrons. "We're not talking dirty, we're in withdrawal," she laughed. Perhaps laughing and talking with friends had the power to get her mind off what she was cleaning for detention. 

Nope. Still not working.

Faith snorted. "Thought you didn't need blood, Darlz. Something you and your vampy boytoy wanna tell the class?" she asked, looking wary. Darla watched Buffy sit up straighter at the mention of the words 'blood' and 'vampy' so close together. Buffy was a Slayer till the end.

Darla shook her head. "I don't need blood to survive, not since the spell and the injections I'm getting each week. It's just…when you do something for so long and then stop, it just feels wrong."

Angelus nodded. "Buff, do you remember when you went to LA last summer? You were staying with your dad and couldn't slay for a month; couldn't even take weapons."

Buffy shuddered. "Yeah. It was terrible! I never thought I'd miss evil so much," she said with conviction. "I felt restless, and bit my dad's head off whenever he tried to get me to do something with him. It felt weird to _not_ slay, to be just me again."

Darla nodded wryly, smiling. "That's what we're feeling with staying here. I want to be drinking, partying, killing…while I don't technically need the blood anymore, and I don't have bloodlust…it just feels like there's something missing."

Buffy blinked, surprised. "As disturbing as this sounds, I understand."

Angelus chuckled. "Don't sound so excited, Buff."

Darla sighed after a while. "Is Snape gone?" she asked in a low voice. Buffy nodded, and the strawberry blonde waved her hand over the cauldrons. "_Scourgify_," she muttered. In an instant, the cauldrons were spotless, gleaming in the dim candlelight.

Angelus snorted. "That's what I want to do: Scourgify. THEN we could have some fun," he laughed, wrapping a strong arm around Darla's waist. She wrinkled her nose. 

"That's about the lamest joke I've ever heard."

"You mean kill-happy fun?" Faith asked Angelus in an unimpressed tone, ignoring Darla's comment. Then, she shrugged. "Oh, well. Whatever turns you on," she said, offhanded. 

Darla's eyes gleamed. "You have no idea."

Buffy got up, wiping her hands on a cloth and sitting atop a desk. She peered at Angelus quizzically. "One question, mister," she said. He straightened up waited for her. When she didn't say anything, he prompted her.

"Fire away."

"If you don't need blood, and there wasn't a Boggart yesterday…"

"Yeah? What about it?"

Buffy narrowed her eyes. "How come that little boy came running out from the forest with a hand to his bleeding throat? _Something_ bit the kid."

"Oh. That," Angelus said, a wicked smile forming on his lips. Darla loved those lips.

"What did you do?" She asked, returning to the present. She raised an eyebrow, preparing to get angry. "How did you bite that boy? I thought you couldn't!"

Angelus raised his eyebrow right back at her. "I never said that I couldn't bite a kid."

Darla tapped him on the arm. "Have you actually tried since you took the potion from the Mayor – ah, Wilkins?" she asked in delicate voice. Angelus blinked.

"Hold that thought," he told Buffy distractedly, before turning to his little strawberry. "What was that, Darla?"

Darla tilted her head to the side. "Wilkins didn't tell you about the potion, did he?" she hummed. "No? didn't think so. Pull out your game face, honey."

Angelus blinked again. "Why do that..?"

Buffy leaned in closer, interested. "Hey! I remember, when we were sparring, you didn't vamp-out. What's with that?"

"I…erm…oh crap." He glowered to himself, seeming to be concentrating. When nothing happened, he stalked over to a chair and straddled it dejectedly, settling his head on his arms. "No way. That's just cruel."

Darla gave a sympathetic smile. "Poor baby. No one told you that the potion would stop you from showing your demon face?"

"No…" came the sullen reply.

Buffy shook her head, trying not to laugh. Darla caught her eye, and saw that she was intrigued by the way Angelus was acting. Perhaps Buffy had never seen this side, the more child-like side of her darling boy.  Buffy cleared her throat, returning to business. "Okay, but if it wasn't you - who bit the kid?"

"Spike."

Buffy gaped. "WHAT?" shrieked, and jumped to her feet. Faith jerked up alongside her, ready for a fight. "You mean that lying bleached bastard didn't take the potion! How'd he get in? I'm gonna kick his ass!" she shot to the door, but Angelus called her back as she rounded the corner.

"Wait! Relax Buff, we only took the potion just before we went through the wards around the school. That's why the Forbidden Forest is infested with darkness – it's beyond the wards. The kid was in the Forest with us before we took the potion. Spikey thought he'd have some fun. He's safe now."

Buffy was unconvinced. "It's not him I'm worried about." 

"You know what I mean," Angelus ran a hand through his hair in a smooth gesture that wound Buffy up_. _"Women," he said at last, rolling his eyes.

"Not women, darling," Darla drawled, simultaneously winking and blowing a kiss reminiscent of a Moulin Rouge dancer. "Slayers."

Buffy, Faith, Darla and Angelus talked for hours, until Professor Snape returned.

"Ah. I see that you have finished your task, finally," he sneered, pulling out four wands. "Here you are."

Darla watched Buffy take them from him with distaste. Buffy's eyes flickered up at Darla, who smirked. Oh, yeah. Tough detention. She felt sorry for all the other students who had detentions from Snape – they weren't wandless witches. Ha ha.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Willow tapped her nails on the Summers' dining room table. "Come on, Dawnie, it's really okay."

 Dawn Summers flicked her long brown hair for the umpteenth time that hour. "I don't understand why I couldn't come. I'm not a kid," she whined. Willow caught her gaze and frowned. It wasn't a 'kid' thing; it was a safety thing. Willow could sense her agitation from her stiff stance and jerky movements.

"Dawn, I know you're feeling left out, but it's really for the best. Believe me," she requested. Still, Dawn looked unconvinced.

"But I could _so_ deal. It's totally cool! I mean, when Buffy was my age- "

"-she was living in LA, being a good girl and totally unaware of anything like that. Think of your mom! She would kill us if she knew we had taken you out and you had seen things like that. Think of your future."

Dawn glared, sinking lower in her chair with her arms crossed tightly across her chest. She was wearing a pale pink t-shirt and some denim jeans, and fluffy pink slippers. "It's nothing I haven't seen before."

Willow looked shocked. "Dawn, we're babysitting. We're NOT going to take you to see an MA-rated movie, and that's that."

Xander came in from the kitchen. "On the plus side, Dawnster, if you stay here you can have all the chocolate ice cream you want and your mom pays for it. We can make popcorn, watch TV – it'll be way better than the movies."  He smiled goofily, starting to wheedle. "C'mon, you know you want a bowl."

Dawn huffed, brow lowered. Nevertheless, she grumbled something incoherent and stalked into the kitchen to join Xander in a bowl of Peter's Ice Cream, drowned in chocolate sauce. Willow smiled as Xander beamed at her. 

"Xander, you're going to turn her into a TV-junkfood…uh…junkie."

"Your point?"

Cordelia slipped past them snickering, and joined Willow at the dining room table. She ran her manicured hand across the dark oak, eyes flicking to the kitchen.

"At her age, Buffy didn't know about vampires, either," Cordelia murmured. Willow sighed, watching Dawn as she giggled and wiped ice cream off Xander's face.

"Fifteen? I think she did, actually. Merrick, back in LA. It's so sad Joyce and Dawn don't know everything about Buffy. I'm glad we didn't tell them _why _Buffy is stuck at the School."

Cordelia nodded, taking a bite out of an apple. "I know. Still, it's just wrong. Joyce and Dawn don't know where Buffy is; they both think she ran away for home for no reason."

"It's gotta be tough." Willow bit her lip, watching Dawn and smiling when the youngest Summers grinned in her direction and pulled a face. Her previous sulk was forgotten as she joked with Xander. 

"Look at her! She must be covering it well. I know for a fact how much she loves Buffy. It must be tearing her up inside knowing that her sister is missing."

"It's been a long time," Cordelia remarked, studying her apple. Willow sensed she was trying to come across casual; hiding her inner turmoil. The cheerleader looked up finally. "Willow, it's been three months. Three whole months, and still no Buffy. Joyce and Dawn…I don't know if the time makes it easier or harder for them to deal. I really don't know."

"I hope for them that the time makes it easier. Easier to, you know…just live with the pain of a loved one missing. Maybe they get used to it, as the time passes…" Willow shook her head, sighing deeply. There was a hole in her heart that could only be filled by a certain blonde Slayer.

"Or it could make it harder," Cordelia offered. Willow saw how unwilling Cordy seemed as she spoke. "I mean, each day passing makes it only more real. More real that your own kid left you; that your sister abandoned you. As the days go on, they're losing hope." Cordelia sat, studying her apple in a daze, musing what she had just said before her head jerked up, releasing her from her trance. "Oh God, I don't know," she said finally.

"I just wish we could tell Dawnie and Joyce where Buffy really is. Dawn seemed to take it okay when she found out Buffy was the Slayer. Joyce…she'd get over the whole 'magic' thing, just to know that Buffy's okay."

Willow's eyes widened and she swung around quickly, looking to see if Dawn had heard. No – Dawnie was still with Xander in the kitchen. "Shhh!" she scolded. "Dawn might hear you."

"I'm being careful," came the half-hearted reply. "Anyway…heard from Giles lately?"

Willow nodded, making sure she wasn't going to be overheard. "Yeah," she said conspiratorially. "Giles got a letter from Buffy two days ago." Cordelia looked offended.

"Why wasn't I told?" she asked snippily. A carefully sculpted eyebrow rose, making Willow squirm.

"He only told me this morning on the phone. He's disappeared for awhile, researching. Apparently- "

"Giles disappeared?" Willow swung around in alarm, her heart beating frantically. Dawn was right at her elbow, and she looked angry and sad and shocked, all at the same time. 

"Dawnie! I- "

"What were you saying?" Dawn demanded, staring into Willow's eyes.

Willow blinked, opening and shutting her mouth quickly. Xander came over to rescue her. "Hey girls! Whatcha up to?"

Dawn put her hands on her hips, swinging to on side in a classic hostile-teen pose. "Willow said something about a letter…I heard Buffy's name. Now, she said that Giles disappeared."

Willow looked towards Xander desperately for help. If there was ever anyone for some quick thinking, it was her best friend.

Dawn caught the exchange and swung to face Xander. "Xand – what is it? What aren't you guys telling me?" her blue eyes seemed to grow wide, but he wasn't sucked in.

"Nuh-uh, Dawnster," he chuckled. "I've told you once; I've told you a thousand times. People with blue eyes CAN'T do the Puppy-dog Eyes look. It just doesn't work. You need brown eyes to do it effectively – hazel at the very least. With blue, the best you can do is the fake-cry." He scratched his head, smiling impishly. "Dangerous for brown eyes, but blue can pull it off."

Dawn suppressed a smile. "You're changing the subject," she half-complained, half-laughed; Willow saw with relief that she seemed calmer. "I'm not a kid, Xander! You can tell me."

Cordelia rolled her eyes, smoothly carrying on where Xander left off. "Giles didn't disappear, Dawn. He just took a couple of days off to do Giles-things. Boring things, involving books."

Dawn wasn't completely won over. "But you said something about Buffy, and a letter…"

Xander nodded. "…Yeah? what about it?"

Dawn narrowed her eyes, confused. "But a letter and Buffy…doesn't that mean, you know – my sister _isn't_ dead in a ditch somewhere? This is one of those important things you should tell her worried family. Spill."

Cordelia exchanged a wary look with Willow. The redhead licked suddenly dry lips. "Okay, okay. We got a letter from Buffy, Dawn."

A frown began to form on Dawn's face. "And…you didn't tell my mom or me about it 'cuz of why, exactly?" she was shifting from foot to foot with anxiety; Willow saw the agitation in her jerky movements.

Willow swallowed. "Dawn, you need to listen to a couple of things…"

Xander's gaze darted from Willow to Dawn quickly. "Wills! Are you sure that…?"

Willow nodded slowly, taking a breath. "She already knows about Buffy being the Slayer, Xander. And the whole thing with her being the Key…"

Dawn looked between them, confused. "Yeah? What about it?"

Cordelia looked undecided. Willow knew what was going through her head – should we tell Dawn or not? "Dawnie, how much did Giles tell you about you being the Key?"

Dawn ran a hand through her hair distractedly. "Uh, he said that there are some people in a cult who believe that I open dimensions…I have this power in me."

"Your birth was foretold?"

"Or lack of it," Dawn confirmed, nodding at Cordelia. "They think that I was made out of Buffy." She shook her head in dismissal,  snorting. "Weird, huh? Those cult people sure are freaky."

Willow sighed. "You have no idea," she whispered. "Dawn, you didn't tell your mom, did you?"

Dawn shook her head violently. "No way! She'd never go with it. I never told her about the fight, either. It'd just upset her."

Willow put on her resolve face. "Well, we can tell you this as long as you _DON'T_ tell your mom. It'd make her really upset, and the Watchers' Council swore us to secrecy. Since you're the Key, though, I think we can tell you."

Dawn's eyes grew wide. She sat down on the chair opposite Willow. "Go on," she urged. "I won't tell mom, I promise. Just tell me – is Buffy okay?"

"Yeah, she's doing fine. A little incarcerated maybe, but…"

"Incarcerated? Where is she? I thought she ran away because of mom's reaction to the whole Slayer/Destiny thing."

Willow winced. "Your mom gave her an ultimatum, but think, Dawnie. Your mom was just really scared for her daughter when Buffy told her she was the Slayer. She said that if Buffy left, she couldn't come back – but she didn't mean it. There's more to it than that."

Dawn look troubled. "There's, like, a whole side of my sister that I've missed out on," she said with her gaze downcast, trained on her fumbling fingers in her lap. "A whole chapter of her life I never knew about." She looked up at Willow, eyes shining. "Tell me, please? Why isn't my sister here? Where is she?"

Willow glanced at Xander and Cordelia. They had both taken a seat at the dining table. Joyce wouldn't be back for at least two hours, so they had time for a story.

 "I guess I should start at the beginning. Do you remember that friend of Buffy's – that Jamaican girl, Kendra?"

Dawn nodded. 

"Well, she was a Slayer too."

"Was? As in, isn't anymore? And I thought Giles said that for a Slayer to be Called, one has to die first. You said Buffy's fine!"

"Yeah. See, that's the thing. There's this vampire called the Master…"

&*&*&

A/N Kudos to all those who **reviewed**

buffy13-buffyspike4eva – suspicious glance someone's been into my crazy pills…

RedsLover03 – I like the way you pair!

Justine Tiamat – yeah, I love my pairings……mwahahahaha……

Adia – you kick ass at reviewing, anyone ever told you that before? I name you queen (or king) of reviews.

Ashenem – yeah that's cool, I'll try some more spike/malfoy next chapter.

Freewheeler26 - big eyes aaaawww, but I like that pairing!

X-2love4ever – okay thanks for the offer

Lepetitmorte – grazias for the offer also

Finella and fdfs – muchos grazias

Extra thanks to **Bloody Heaven**, who was kind enough to endure my ramblings. I need to talk about _plot_, hun….if you're still up for it, feel free to drop me a line. If not, no worries. Sit back and enjoy the show!

Lots of love, the author. J


	16. Libraries and Stars

Buffy stood in the doorway to the Great Hall, unease settling in her stomach. She watched from determined eyes as Harry sat in his chair, friends with Ron and Hermione again. There was something very weird with him.

She shook her head in bafflement, and Faith nudged her. "It's the right thing to do, B. You can't keep up with this crazy relationship with scarboy."

"Harry," Buffy corrected automatically. In the back of her mind, she knew it was true. And what was with the scar, anyway? She had loads of scars from battles. Big deal. "And who says I can't keep the relationship up? It's not like I'm some lame, bad-relationship-having…"

Faith pulled a face. "B, quit with the deep and meaningfuls. Stop trying to find soul-mates in every guy you find. That's my advice, as your sister slayer."

Buffy pulled a face right back at her. "Oh, yeah, cuz you're so good at keeping relationships yourself." She zinged. "And for just how long were you with Drake?"

"Um, actually about two months. On and off. We're not strictly together anymore, but that doesn't mean we don't still sleep with each other." Faith grinned, satisfied at making Buffy squirm.

"Exactly! So who are you to give _me_ advice?"

Faith sighed melodramatically. "Think of it this way. I've been around. After awhile, I can't help but get a bit of a Yoda-like dose of wisdom. With great experience comes great insight."

Buffy said nothing, but watched as Harry laughed, and threw an arm around Hermione. Huh. Funny how that happens, isn't it? Like, ever since Angelus and Spike had showed up, he was friendly with the people he had been such an ass to all over again.

The prank with Crookshanks was designed by Harry, for the sole purpose of having fun, at the expense of his friends. Buffy knew for a fact that doing stuff like that was evil. He had no excuse for his behaviour.

But as soon as Angelus had shown up, and Harry got wind of their history…_horizontal tango history and middle-of-the-night kissing history…_he had changed back. It was insane. Drusilla was the one to make that delightful explanation for him.

Didn't his friends see? He was just a sad, jealous little boy who heard about a guy his girlfriend used to be close with and freaked. He turned back to the 'Light' side, so the whole school was saying. And oddly enough, it was Buffy who everyone was labelling as the Darth Vader to lure him over in the first place.

"I'm so happy they're not together anymore," Lavender had said to Parvati the other night, while Buffy listened from behind a bookshelf in the library. "She is such a…a.."

"A manipulative _witch!_" Parvati hissed. "Harry never used to be so cold, and the things he's said to Hermione!" she clucked disapprovingly.

Buffy sucked in a breath, clapping a hand to her mouth afterwards when Lavender looked in her direction, puzzled.

"Did you hear something just now?" she asked, confused.

"No," came the impatient reply from Parvati. "It's just…Harry changed, after Buffy came to the school. But they seem to be, you know, going off each other now."

"Just at the same time as Harry becomes more normal. Like, total personality switch," Lavender agreed, snapping her fingers for emphasis. "Coincidence? No way. Funny, though," she said as an afterthought.

"I've spoken to Buffy sometimes in class. She seems like a really, genuinely nice person. When you speak to her, you have no idea why she's in Slytherin."

"But that's the thing!" Parvati implored. "Slytherin! That's what they do – they're sneaky, and cunning, and you never know about them till it's too- "

"And that's the thing with Gryffindors," Darla sneered imperiously, appearing out of nowhere arm-in-arm with Angelus. "They're too preoccupied with what they want to think to even consider reality. Harry is a disturbed little boy. His schizophrenic mood swings have nothing to do with Buffy. You might want to read the papers sometime," she said delicately. It was well known in the Wizarding World that the Daily Prophet had slandered him for being a loon.

Parvati swallowed "- _late,_" she finished.

Angelus raised an eyebrow. "Haven't you got anything better to do?" he said dismissively.

Lavender licked her suddenly dry lips. "Liam, wasn't it? I don't think we've been properly- "

"Places to go, people to see," Darla said flatly. She recognised the look in the girls' eyes. Who the hell did they think they were, fluttering their lashes at Angelus like that? Darla could smell Parvati's blood; she could hear it pumping through her veins. The pulse was getting faster, and louder. 

Darla shot a Look at the two Gryffindors, which sent them scurrying away. They didn't even try to maintain dignity.

"And what was that about Gryffindors?" Angelus asked amusedly. "You know I don't like being stereotyped."

Darla blew him a kiss. "It's true – you are preoccupied with what you want to think. But you have such imaginative thoughts, and you tend to carry them out." She beamed proudly. "I like that in a person."

"Good thing he has no soul," muttered Buffy, coming out from behind her bookshelf as soon as she saw that Parvati and Lavender had gone. 

Wait – did I actually think that?!? Bad Buffy! Bad, stupid thoughts… she scolded herself in disbelief. But then, It is a good thing. If he were my Angel, I'd be devastated he was acting like this.

Angelus rolled his eyes. "Souls are overrated," he drawled. "All they do is hinder your potential."

Buffy felt a chill. "Harry has a soul, and he can still act like a bastard," she ground out. Darla looked sympathetic; Angelus looked bored.

That was two nights ago. During then and now, Buffy couldn't stop thinking about it. Harry had done all those dreadful things (being nasty, pulling cruel pranks) and had acted like a total asshole and still, the whole Wizarding world was ready to take him back with welcome arms, a leg of ham and a bottle of champagne to make him happy.

I've saved the world more than he has. I made one mistake – oh, shit. NO; I fricking DIDN'T make a mistake. Rotten Sunnydale police THINK I made a mistake and killed Kendra, and whoa, we can't give her a proper trial that she's awake during. Let's all ostracize the Slayer and lock her up in a magical institution cuz duh, she must be evil and bad and so what she's saved the world and…

…and GOD I just used ostracized in a sentence. That is such a Giles thing to do. I miss Giles. Willow, Xander. I miss them so much.

Why can't I have that luxury Harry has? Why can't the world say 'hey, we think it was just a fluke' and welcome me back? Dawn…Mom…

My family think I've run away. They don't know about the charges against me. Watchers' Council erased my file at the Police Department. 

So, really, would it matter if I went back home? I could just tell Mom I screwed up; I got scared and ran away. No one cares about me here. It's my own godamned prison. Why would I be missed here? 

"Yes."

Buffy was shocked out of her reverie by a voice next to her. She'd forgotten Faith was there. Faith was looking at her with narrowed eyes, pain leaking out.

"Huh?"

"Yes, you'd be missed," came the answer.

Buffy's mind swam. She blinked in shock. "How did you…?"

"Wandless thing, I guess," Faith said uneasily, shrugging. "Being a Witch/Slayer. You looked like you were thinking that."

Buffy shook her head in amazement. "You've got, what, telepathic powers?" she whispered, eyes darting around, scared someone might hear. "That's so wiggy! You're like Jean Grey from X-Men! Now we've just gotta find you a sexy Cylops," she giggled.

Faith stared at her levelly. "I'm not telepathic. Darla tried to explain, but I only got about half. You're just sending out these vibes, and I think it's like…we're the same frequency: I can kinda get what you're getting at. So don't try it, B. I can see right through you."

Buffy pulled a face. "Don't try what? Those last few sentences didn't flow too well," she joked half-heartedly.

"You're changing the subject. In answer to your question – Yeah. You'd be missed." 

Buffy looked into Faith's eyes. They were a warm, chocolate brown, lined with black with green today. The brunette held her gaze for a minute before shrugging, and lowering her eyes. She scuffed her mary-jane on a stone jutting out from the wall, and started to saunter in. 

Buffy followed, and they walked in silence to the table before sitting. They stared at the table in silence for awhile, not eating anything, not saying anything. They didn't need to.

"So, thanks. But here you are." Buffy bit her lip as she handed a couple of boxes to the less-than-pleased Harry. "I mean, you're really very generous, but I feel like we're not going anywhere, so you can have it all."

Harry snatched a box from Buffy's hand. He stared at it angrily, before shrugging moodily. "Yeah, thanks," he ground out, although the whole Library could tell that was the very last thing he was thinking. 

Buffy's throat was dry. Inside the small, dark blue velvet box was the bracelet he had given her those months ago. Muchos the expensive jewellery.

It was strange to think that he had given her something that special, just when they were beginning to go out. Not many guys did that.

Not many guys. Angel did though. Angel gave me a silver crucifix the first night he met me…and numerous leather jackets…and a flower every now and then…

A ring…

True love…

His gifts had been maybe smaller, but they meant more to me than anything. I mean, what's an antique bracelet? A bracelet doesn't ward away vampires as they lean in to suck you dry. It doesn't keep you warm during those cold nights on patrol. It doesn't make your heart flutter like a freshly plucked flower…

Ugh! I can't stand this!

He's the one man I truly, truly love with all my heart and I see him everyday, even though I know it's not him.

It's not him, it's not Angel. It's not him, it's not Angel. It's not him, it's not the man that I truly truly love to bits and makes my heart hurt and aw, hell he's coming round the corner with Darla.

Damn.

Buffy looked up to see the two of them rounding a bookshelf. She turned back to the table to see that Harry had slouched off, taking his 'gifts' back with him.

Harry'd almost be classified as sleazy if he weren't so upper-class. It's like, Henry the Eighth type generosity. Not cool. Which is a weird thing to think, because Harry is a pet form of the name Henry actually and I remember what Henry the Eighth used to do to his wives. Huh, Harry'd lose an arm if he tried something like that to me. 

And I'm reminiscing about Renaissance English Kings. I miss Willow. She taught me that.

Malfoy walked purposefully into the dungeon, looking for Wilkins. There was something he had to discuss. Ever since the demise of his father, Draco Malfoy had been made the Lord of his Manor house, and had inherited a couple of titles and a whole lot of power. He walked with his head held high. Now, there was an increasing pressure placed upon him. Despite the fact that the Dark Lord had been sucked dry, the Death Eaters were still very prominent.

After one Dark Lord comes another, Malfoy mused. Voldemort wasn't the first Big Bad to grace Europe. Before him was Grindelwald, and he too had been defeated. But the evil was still there, in the people.

So really, it wasn't the fault of Big Bads, he reasoned. It was because of individuals such as him - those who were just a bit more industrious, intelligent, cunning and power-hungry - that made the world full of evil.

Them and demons, of course. Not to forget all the other monsters in the world, either.

But at the end of the day, which were more remembered – Grindylows or Grindelwald? 

Red caps or the Red Baron?

Spiders or…

"Spike," he said, surprised that the vampire had appeared. "Where have you been?"

William the Bloody shrugged, taking out a cigarette. "Haven't seen Drusilla for ages. We've been spending quality time together," he said, smirking and winking suggestively. Malfoy nodded, accepting it.

"Yeah, true. Where's she now?"

"Astronomy Tower. She likes it up there. The stars talk to her."

Malfoy nodded, and leaned up against Wilkins' desk. Spike made no move to leave. The blondes regarded each other for a moment, each sizing the other up.

"So that's not your real hair colour, is it?" Spike said finally, looking him over.

Malfoy blinked. He really wasn't expecting William the Bloody aka Spike to be asking after his hair. After a moment of blatant staring, Malfoy shook his head slightly and stammered, "-uh, no. It's, uh, real."

"Huh. I used to have that colour for awhile. Bleached. Dru thinks I look better with it this way, though, so I stopped." He smirked at Malfoy, who frowned.

"What are you saying? You think I should dye it a darker blonde colour?" he shook his head. "I'm a Malfoy, Spike. I'm the master of the family, now. I just can't change something like that."

"Sounds like a piss-weak argument."

"What would you know? The Malfoys have been intimidating the Wizarding world for centuries, and are renowned for white-blonde hair. You change a thing like that, and the whole street cred goes straight to hell."

"So it's just for respect."

"Well, yeah."

Spike looked him hard in the eye, blue meeting arctic ice. "Let me tell you something about street cred, boyo," he drawled.

Malfoy pulled a face. "Look, you don't need to tell me anything abo- "

"-Yeah, looks like I do. I know a lot about the Malfoy family reputation. And I know you're starting something difficult, being the new patriarch and lord and all that, no your dad's died. But you gotta get one thing straight first."

Malfoy looked unimpressed. "And what's that?"

"Take it from a Master Vampire who's commanded fear and respect for centuries. Even ask Angelus – he can't walk into a bar without making demons piss themselves. And that's on his own. Imagine what happens when the four of us get around together!" he was grinning madly, anticipating reactions. But this was only boring Malfoy.

"This is interesting and all, but does it have a point?" he snapped arrogantly. 

Spike sneered. "Yeah, it does, whelp," he said, ignoring Malfoy's insulted look. "Respect can't be driven by your dad or your looks in the long run. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that all the fear you've got right now is because your Lucius's boy. Not because you're Draco."

Malfoy felt himself turning slightly pink with humiliation – and indignation. How dare this vampire say such things?!

"That's not true! I- "

"You are still living in your father's shadow. When people see you, they think of him. But not for much longer, now that Lucius kicked the bucket. Daddy's gone, and his little boy isn't going to be respected at all."

Malfoy found he had nothing to say. The colour drained from his face slowly, as he thought about everything Spike had said. It…made sense. As much as he didn't want to, Draco was agreeing.

"That's going to have to change, then," Malfoy said quietly, but forcefully. He was really asking Spike how, but this way didn't damage his pride.

The vampire knew what he had subconsciously asked and grinned, baring his teeth, unfanged as they were. "Now you take it from me, boyo, cuz I had to do exactly the same thing."

"What?"

"You don't just want to be respected, or even feared. You want to be infamous. And there's lots of things to do to get that – for me, it began with some railroad spikes and an old friend…"

They talked for hours. Drusilla heard all about it from her place in the Astronomy Tower. She liked it there. The night sky told her everything that was happening, everything that had happened, or would in the future.

"Such pretty stars, pretty, pretty," she sang out softly, her words not quite disappearing on the wind. "You all tell such stories. Grandmother will not be pleased, you say? I agree."

"The stars tell you of the Miracle?" came a voice from behind her, deep and gravely.

Drusilla closed her eyes and hummed, a smile crawling across her feline features. "Handsome pony knows as well. He doesn't think you stars should share with me."

Firenze frowned, kneeling next to her. "You are a demon. Unholy. The stars hold arcane power, and it is not for your kind to have access to it."

"Ganymede doesn't want you to be concerned."

"Ganymede doesn't, but it is in my nature to. See how her sister, Europa, comes so close to Jupiter tonight?" he sighed. "And yet, for you to be blessed with the sight, I can tell that you were once pure. So perhaps, you will use your skills to benefit others."

Drusilla regarded the sky. "Europa is close to Jupiter. The Time is drawing nearer."

"You have noticed."

"I have told the others, but they suspect nothing. They cannot understand the pretty stars twinkling bedtime stories to me that haven't happened." She giggled, pointing to a shooting star. "Naughty, get back into place. There shall be no tea and cake for you tonight."

Anyone who was watching would have seen a star falling to the east, then slowing, stopping, and heading back to its original position. They would have thought they were dreaming.

Firenze shook his head. "Be careful. Watch Europa."

"The Time approaches. Adrastea tells of another, as well."

"Another not of this land."

"We shall see. Europa shall tell us when the Time is at hand."

"And we shall act as we see fit," Firenze finished, still gazing at the sky.

"Pretty stars tell such naughty bedtime stories. If they aren't carefully, Jupiter shall not give them dinner."

Firenze stared at Drusilla as she clapped her hands with delight. He stood, and walked away, listening to her murmur to herself.

"Twinkle twinkle little stars, Miracle will cause some scars. After he, the sun will rise. Right before our very eyes…"

&&&

A/N

Yeah. Late. Duh. Couldn't be helped. Many people have been itching to see some Spike/Malfoy, so here it is. Took ages to think of, and ages to write. I'm not very good with those characters, I don't think.

Many thanks to reviewers – hey guys, I'm at 149 on ff.net!! ONE MORE!!!

Ashenem – glad you approve

Kat – yeah, I had some issues with Dawn for a couple of season, but I'm over it now…after reading "Camp Killalot" by karen/msgordo. It's fantastic!

Sabia – thanks for pointing that out. I'll work on staying more in character. 

Blondi gurl – YES! The scoobies believe in Buffy!!!

Buffy13-buffyspike4ever – ask, and ye shall receive. Unless it's B/S. yes, there will be B/A or some B/Aus, so stay tuned! And yeah, Dawnie should be younger, but I like her being just a tad older. I'm changing it so she's just a year younger than Buffy.

Morgana – thanks!

Kyra2 – huh. I havent thought that much about the Watchers for awhile. Must look into that…

Linz005 – merci

Draco-FutureBF – thanks as always!

Tuxedo cat – thank you, thank you

ChocolateKitten – luvin' the reviews

TtH

JoeHunderedaire – ew, I never knew I even had extra spacing! Working on it!

Dragonxprincess – v. encouraging. Thanks!

REVIEW!


	17. Levitation and Languages

Faith leaned forward in her chair, tapping Buffy on the shoulder. "Is it just me, or are you really bad at magic?"

Buffy glared. "This spell is just really hard. You know I suck at levitation."

"B, this isn't levitation. It's a protection spell."

"Joking!"

Wilkins clapped his hands together, encouraging the seventh years to try harder. They were still doing the same spell that they had learned a week ago, an advanced Protego Spell. It wasn't particularly hard, Darla having been the first to master it – out of the Slytherins, anyway. It worked by throwing up a basic force field around the spell caster, and then giving it plastic properties, so that the caster had a choice whether they wanted any incoming spells to be dissipated or bounced off upon contact. Buffy was having issues with the repelling of spells.

Really, she thought, if I don't want to get hit with a spell, wouldn't I just duck?

Darla was her partner, and had performed it perfectly a week ago. Now she just sat around playing with her nails, not doing anything while Buffy tried fruitlessly to conquer to spell.

Professor Wilkins came over. "Miss Summers, I know you're trying your hardest, but it's just not working. How come?"

Buffy tutted impatiently. This magic was starting to lose its charm (no pun intended). At the end of the day, Hogwarts was a lot like Sunnydale High. Homework, teachers, boyfriend issues… "It's nothing, I just can't concentrate, is all."

Wilkins pursed his lips. "Any reason in particular?" he pressed.

Buffy shrugged. "No," she said mechanically, thinking about Angel. Angelus and Spike had left three weeks ago, at the same time leaving a big gaping hole in her heart. She had a lot of problems letting them go – the most obvious being that she loved Angel; the most important being that Angelus and Spike were going back into the real world where magic didn't stop them from feasting on people.

As the Slayer, even a very disgruntled one, Buffy wasn't evil. Her conscience wouldn't let her allow them to go. She spoke to Faith about the problem, asking what she thought. Faith had been adamant that they could _not_ kill the two Master vampires.

"Why? It's our calling. Dumbledore knows that," Buffy argued.

"B, Gandalf doesn't know that Angel and Spike are vampires. He thinks that they're humans. Get me? If we stake 'em, he'll figure that we really are murderers and we just struck again. Plus, probation. Council will throw us behind bars."

Buffy stared. "YOU read Lord of the Rings?" she said, her eyes wide and mouth gaping. "I mean, you READ?"

Faith glared. "Shut up. I kick ass at magic school. And I'm being serious."

"And so am I! They're killers, and they'll kill more if we don't do something- "

"-and make the Master _want_ to kill us even more? Not smart! They're his family! If we stake them, then either we get thrown in Azkaban by the Council or slaughtered while we sleep by the Master. Let's not forget Darla and Drusilla, either," Faith had added in an undertone. "We sleep in the same dorm. How hard do you think it would be for them to try something?" She straightened. "We can't stake either of them."

Buffy shook her head, scandalised. "We can't just let them kill!"

"There is something you can do," came a male voice from behind Buffy. She whipped around, and saw Malfoy standing there with his trademark smirk.

"Make it look like suicide?" Buffy said hopefully.

Malfoy wrinkled his nose. "That's not only a Muggle idea, it's also stupid," he sneered. When Buffy looked ready to rip him a new one, he dropped the superiority act. "Fine. I just meant that you could get a hold of that non-vampire potion or spell or whatever it is they've been using to escape detection - and overdose them. Then, if they can't turn into their demon faces, they can't drink anyone. Nor would they get sick without the blood."

Buffy stared. "That's a fantastic idea!" she shrieked. "Malfoy, I could kiss you!"

"Rules are- "

"Yeah, yeah, Faith. I remember," Buffy said rolling her eyes. "Overreact much?"

Faith smirked. "Good, just as long as you remember," she said. "Anyway, they leave tonight. It's a potion _and_ a spell, by the way."

Buffy smiled. "I think I know just how to give it to them…"

Two hours later and several goblets of pumpkin juice for the unsuspecting vampires, it was done. They had gone back to Sunnydale, without knowing about their overdose. Buffy hadn't heard from them since, but she was willing to bet that they were not happy chappies.

Presently, Wilkins was still regarding Buffy with a raised eyebrow. Buffy repeated herself, trying to sound more confident.

"No, there's no reason why I can't concentrate. None that I can think of, anyway."

Wilkins stared at her dubiously. "Right. Well," he said, glancing round. "Everyone! Everyone, quiet please. You're all at different stages, but I want you to see how's it's done again. Miss Aurelius? I'm going to attack you, so please cast a Protego Spell against me. I want everyone to watch carefully – take special note of her wrist movement."

Darla smiled carelessly, standing and taking out her wand. Wilkins stepped into the cleared area and raised his wand. Darla flicked her wrist, and a blue force field sprang up around her. Wilkins stepped forward.

"Reducto," he said casually, but before the spell could even leave his wand tip, he was stopped.

Abruptly, Darla's force field surged in a discharge of blue energy and blasted Wilkins off his feet, through the air and into the wall, with an almighty crash. Then, the field went dead. The Sunnydale Mayor's head bounced off the wall with a thunk, and when he slid to the floor a huge hole appeared. Darla blanched and looked at her wand in surprise.

"Oops."

Faith rushed to the side of the room and picked Wilkins up off the floor, setting him on his feet. The Professor rubbed his head, looking murderous. "What the dickens was that?" he demanded, his eyes oddly focussed for a person who had just been slammed against a wall.

Darla looked deeply irked. "My spell," she stated. Wilkins was about to say something, but stopped, as if remembering the other students in the classroom who were watching the interaction with various degrees of shock etched upon their faces.

Wilkins registered the looks on the other students' faces as they tried to inconspicuously edge away from Darla, and then he shook his head seeming to clear his thoughts. "Out. Everyone out. Except Miss Aurelius," he instructed. The students didn't need to be told twice, and left poste haste. Faith gave Darla a lingering glance.

Darla sighed moodily and sat down in a chair, sneering at Wilkins. "What?" she snapped.

Wilkins frowned deeply, sitting down across from her. "Why don't you tell me?" he threw back. "Did you intend to blast me across the room, young lady? Because I have to tell you, this is not the type of behaviour one condones in a school system." By the time he had finished speaking, Darla's expression had changed from a sneer, to despair, to self-righteous anger.

Darla snorted in the most ladylike way possible. "Of course not."

Wilkins was more than a bit put off by this. There were so many emotions flitting over the vampiress's face, it was like she was having a very fast, very silent battle inside herself, to see which mood she would take on. The Mayor was perplexed. If he didn't know any better, he would have said that she was having some severe hormone imbalances. This was impossible, though; she was obviously dead. Er, undead.

"So I'm at a loss. What happened?"

Darla huffed. "I don't know, alright?" she bit off. "All my magic has been going strange for the last couple of days. I can't control it."

"If you can't control your wand then you shouldn't be taking classes. I'll inform Professor Dumbledore and we can see about letting Mr Ollivander have a look at it."

Darla rolled her eyes, tapping her fingernails on the desk impatiently. "Yeah, okay. Here's my wand. Good luck."

With that, she stood and swept out of the room, bumping into Faith as she stepped out of the door. She threw the dark-haired slayer a filthy look and walked off, muttering curses.

Faith's brow knitted. Over the last week, she had been increasingly temperamental, and her magic _had_ been a little weird. Nothing like this had happened before, though.

Darla was acting very strangely.

Normally, she was the epitome of serenity. Nothing ever seemed to frazzle her; she was always cool, calm and collected. Now, she was continually having mood swings and even looked different. Her usually bouncy, shiny strawberry blonde curls were lank down her back, and she was snapping at everyone. Something was very, very wrong.

* * *

Drusilla hummed as she watched the stars twinkle merrily above her. The stars knew everything that was, is and ever will be; even a crazy person knew that. Sometimes the crazy people knew it to be more true than the normal people.

Professor Dumbledore's eyes held the same quality. The wisdom, the twinkle. The blue that the sky became when the stars were no longer seen.

Dru sighed happily, pulling herself back inside the train. She was the only person present on the Hogwarts Express, and she was going back to Sunnydale - to William and Angelus.

She had started feeling uncomfortable, staying in that castle. She had stayed there for a few weeks, and her boys had only stayed there for a week. After they left, she began missing them terribly. Where was all the fun, the spoiling that always came Drusilla's way when she was with her boys? It was as if life at Hogwarts was mocking her, and she did not appreciate it.

Firenze was right – this was not meant for her. There were many powers Drusilla possessed that she shouldn't, for the sole reason that she didn't deserve them. Or so it seemed to most people.

Drusilla mused that after she spent all that time with her Daddy watching her human family tortured, she felt like she deserved all the power in the world. And so she had it.

Her most valued power was her ability to See what is, and what would be. Drusilla knew things before others not because she needed to know, but because she was told.

The stars had been telling her for weeks now about the sun. The sun was going to rise, and when that time came, there would be a battle. A battle for trust, for good, or for love?

Either way, it was a battle. And from battles came lots of bodies, and blood, and fun.

Drusilla knew that when the Time had come, he would love it as well.

After all, it was in the blood.

* * *

Hermione and Ron laughed as Harry told a joke about a hag, a leprechaun and a toothpick. It was very amusing, and very welcome. Everyone in Gryffindor had noticed Harry's spontaneous personality swap. It was as if he had schizophrenia or something just as frightening – all those weeks ago, with no explanation, Harry had just changed.

Everyone knew he had changed, but it was the little things that got to Hermione the most. The most obvious example was the stunt he pulled with Crookshanks.

That had made everyone (who was not a vampire in disguise, a mayor or a slayer) really confused. The little things were the way he dressed, how he pulled wings off his butterflies in Potions with glee replacing the usual distaste. The hanging out with Malfoy was ridiculously out of character, and he was callous to all of his childhood friends.

It was as if he had no compassion; like his heart had been turned to stone. He didn't care what his best friends thought, or felt.

This was so unlike Harry, that Hermione felt truly afraid of him. His eyes were what scared her and Ron the most – their usual emerald green had a malevolent glint all the time, and he never looked happy. True, he would look _pleased_, but that wasn't the same thing.

But then, he and Buffy had broken up and a bit after that, SNAP! He was Harry again. Laughing, joking, brave, loyal Harry that everyone knew and loved. He had begged everyone's forgiveness, stating that he had a Polar Personality Potion and _that_ was why he had acted so weirdly. Everyone had sucked the story up without uncertainty, and _voila!_ He was back in Gryffindor's good graces.

Hermione was immensely glad, but she wanted answers. She was ecstatic that she had her best friend back, but she knew that his excuse was a lie. She looked around the common room where Harry was the centre of attention. He had become his usual self, oh, three weeks ago; no one was asking questions.

Hermione made up her mind. As much as she hated to look a gift horse in the mouth, she needed to know what happened to Harry.

She took Ron's hand inconspicuously as Harry talked animatedly to Ginny.

"Ron…" she whispered into his ear.

Ron leaned over to his girlfriend. "Yeah, Hermione? What is it?" he asked quietly.

"Do you want to find out about Harry?" She didn't bother to wait for a response, and had already thought out the next part. "Let's pretend we're going to the Boys' Dormitory to snog, okay?"

Ron didn't quite know what she was on about, but was willing to comply. With a deep breath and a grin, he stood up, pulling her with him.

They walked up the stairs of the Dormitory hand in hand, ignoring the whistles and comments made about them as they went. Hermione disappeared behind the door, and a beaming Ron addressed the rest of the half-full common room from the top of the stairs.

"Oi, can we get a bit of privacy for a while? No coming in the Seventh Years' Boys' Dorm, or else!" he threatened with the ease of one who had said the same thing many a time. The common room's occupants shrugged and nodded, losing interest. Satisfied that he had ensured at least half an hour alone with Hermione, Ron quickly slipped in the room and shut the door, locking it with a charm just in case. Hermione was already over at Harry's bed.

"I feel guilty doing this," she said uneasily, "but I have this feeling that Harry's- "

"Not telling the truth about his mood swings?" Ron finished grimly. Hermione looked at him, their eyes meeting in understanding.

"Well, yeah. I was thinking we search his trunk, for a start."

Ron nodded mutely, and opened Harry's trunk at the end of his bed.

Hermione pulled his Invisibility Cloak off the top, and began to sift through things. Sneakoscopes, books, a shattered mirror, the Marauders' Map, some spare quills. More or less normal things.

Hermione tutted, frowning. "Nothing! Damnit, I need to know! There's something I'm missing…"

* * *

"There's something I'm missing!"

Rupert Giles sat in his chair heavily at the Watchers' Council HQ, pouring a few drops of Firewhisky into his tea. Normally he would have had some scotch, but Dumbledore had given him a nice big bottle a month or so ago and it was much more gratifying than Muggle alcohol.

Giles ran his hand through his hair agitatedly, and pushed play on his small, battered tape recorder for the umpteenth time today.

He strained to listen carefully, his right hand poised with a quill right above some parchment. The tape squealed a bit, and he bent closer when Buffy's voice began to play from the recorder.

It was a copy of her interrogation.

_"What is your name, Slayer?"_

_"Elizabeth Anne Summers." _

_"Who is your Watcher?"_

_"Rupert Giles."_

_"Have you killed a lot of vampires?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Are you good at killing things?"_

_"Yes." _

_"Have you killed creatures other than vampires? Or demons?"_

_"Yes."_

_"I don't like to lose a good Slayer…_

_Have you killed another Slayer of your own free will?"_

There was a pause.

_"Damnit, you bitch! Did you kill Kendra or not?"_

_"Yes."_

Giles groaned and pushed stop on the tape, rewinding once more. The problem with Veristaserum was that it was so selective! The truth is never set in stone, there are emotions, causes, extenuating circumstances. For example, Buffy had said that she killed creatures other than vampires and demons.

The council had _assumed_ that she was referring to killing Kendra, and therefore this was considered more evidence against her. But really, it might not have been that!

What about all the times she had killed an entity or ghost or a bird by accident while practicing her archery? A robot, for Heaven's sake? Or when he had forced her to sacrifice a mouse for a Wiccan spell one time?

And that's not even considering the-

Wait. Giles stopped. He rewound the tape just a bit this time.

_"I don't like to lose a good Slayer…_

_Have you killed another Slayer of your own free will?"_

Pause.

_"Damnit, you bitch! Did you kill Kendra or not?"_

_"Yes."_

There it was, that pause! Giles looked down at his page. He had written the word 'pause' over and over, circling it in red and crossing it out all over again.

He had assumed that her pausing was because of the Veritaserum attacking her brain, but his mind was racing at what he had just remembered. She killed the bird and by ACCIDENT.

He had FORCED her to sacrifice the mouse.

And she hadn't responded when asked about her free will…

Giled jumped up from his seat, his heart jumping wildly into his throat, filling him with delirious warmth. He broke out into a huge grin.

"I've got it!"

* * *

"I've got it!"

Hermione gasped. Ron looked at her quizzically. "What have you got?"

Hermione smiled, holding up a bunch of papers. "Harry always dates his homework, so I've had a rough idea when these things have been happening. Do you remember the first day Harry really started acting weirdly?"

Ron shrugged. "As in, date?"

Hermione pulled a face, shaking the papers. "We were learning about Hornicus Root in Herbology. That exact class, he started being mean. And look, here – these are his notes for the day, and he's written a note to himself. 'Translate Italian.' Then he wrote something about a Master? I'm not sure…"

Ron shook his head. "So? I don't understand…"

"And here, this date is a few weeks afterwards, he wrote a note to himself in _Arabic._"

Ron was stunned. "Where the hell did he learn..?"

"And on the next day, there's a bit in French, Gaelic, German, and what's this…Romany? I'm not sure…"

Ron was starting to get freaked out. "He doesn't know any of those languages. I know that he doesn't."

Hermione licked her suddenly dry lips, her heart beating nervously. "And here, after a solid week of foreign languages, he stopped." Hermione swallowed. She was on the verge of a discovery, and she knew it. Things were just too much of a coincidence.

"Ron, the whole week that he was writing these languages, he was at his worst. Personality-wise, I mean. And here is the day when he pulled that cruel prank with Crookshanks in DADA. Look, his whole paper has no English on it whatsoever. This was the day after Professor Wilkins left for that trip of his, did you notice?"

Ron pulled a face. "Now you're going a bit far," he said gently. "Wilkins is a champ! He's our DADA Professor. How can you think that- "

"Quirrel? Moody? Ring a bell?" Hermione asked testily. "I tell you, there's something off about this. I swear that he's involved, and I have lots of reasons to think so as well. And here, in that week that Harry got so unbearable that not even BUFFY would talk to him? That week when he went absolutely off the wall?"

"Yeah?"

"No English. Plus, that was the exact week that those boyfriends of the exchange girls visited. Liam and William?"

Ron shook his head. "Look, Hermione. Normally I would agree, but you're just grasping at straws now," he said firmly, closing the lid of Harry's trunk and easing Hermione up on the bed. "Those guys aren't evil. Heck, they aren't even wizards!"

"Then how do you explain the 'imaginary' Boggart, then? What was that really? And how did two Muggles get into Hogwarts, past the wards? How come you hardly ever saw them eat, and…"

Ron sighed, helping her up. "Okay, okay. I don't know anything for sure. How about you just sleep on this new information, and try to make some sense of it tomorrow?"

Hermione nodded mutely, agreeing to whatever Ron was saying even though she wasn't really hearing him.

She was bothered by another question – _Why can't I remember them coming into the Great Hall? I just looked up, and there they were…_

She went up to her room absentmindedly and was taking off her robes when a piece of paper fell out of the folds of her robe.

She bent over and picked it up. The writing on it was Harry's. It was written in English, and was entitled, "Translation of _VAMPYR_. Written in relation to the _Memoria di Quattro._"

Hermione stared at it, entranced, and a smile started to grace her face. She settled into her bed and started to read.

A/N

Massive reworking of plot has been completed. Apart from that, no comment.


End file.
